


Strange, Far Places

by bluestar



Series: From Out the Ocean Risen [2]
Category: Pacific Rim
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Body Horror, Dissociation, Gen, Hallucinations, Panic Attacks, Podfic Welcome, Seizures, Suicidal Ideation, Violence, mental break/loss of touch with reality, warnings for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 125,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestar/pseuds/bluestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the aftermath is the worst of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1.

 

            It was becoming very hard to look in mirrors.

            Not because he didn’t recognize himself, but because there would be flashes of things Newt knew weren’t really there. A flicker of blue luminescence, eyes with slit pupils or teeth that were too pointed. He would catch himself staring at the mirror willing the images to come back to prove he wasn’t crazy, but there was nothing. More than once Gottlieb had caught him making faces at himself in anything reflective, and had long since stopped questioning why he was doing it.

            Except when he did it in public.

            “We were in the middle of a _meeting_ ,” Gottlieb hissed, dragging him along by the elbow. His cane rapped so loudly against the floor it made Newt wince. “You couldn’t keep your damn tongue in your mouth for five minutes?”

            “I was _not_ sticking my tongue out.”

            “Yes you were, you imbecile! I should be thankful at least that you weren’t picking your nose as well, God knows you’ve devolved into a bloody _five year old-”_

            Newt yanked his arm away and glared at Gottlieb, hands raised in appeal.

            “You’re making way too much out of this _._ I wasn’t sticking my tongue out.”

            “What were you even _looking at?_ ”

            Newt, who knew full well he’d been trying to look at his tongue in the reflection of a coffee mug and drawing the attention of everyone in the conference room for fifteen minutes, looked away and shrugged. Gottlieb stared daggers at him, then rolled his eyes and turned away.

            “Oh, c’mon. Don’t be mad at me.”

            “I’m not angry. I’m mildly disgusted and entirely unsurprised.”

            “Only mildly? That’s…that’s good.”

            Gottlieb stopped short and held up his hand as Newt tried to follow him. He looked irritated beyond words.

            “I am going to the laboratory to finish a report,” he said shortly. “I would prefer if _you_ found something else to do with your time.”

            “It’s a shared lab space, Hermann,” Newt said, annoyed. “I can go back and work in the same room. You can’t kick me out.”

            “I’ve been trying to get you kicked out of my general vicinity for _ten years,_ ” Gottlieb snapped. “And I just spent an hour sitting beside you while you pulled faces at a coffee mug. _Go find somewhere else to be._ ”

            “It’s not like I was trying to make out with it!” Newt called loudly, watching Gottlieb storm away down the corridor. “Fine! I’ll go somewhere else! This doesn’t mean I’m sorry, y’know, I’ve got stuff to do _everywhere!_ ”

            “So go do it, you _affliction!_ ”

            “Oh my God, you are such a…your _face_ is an affliction!”

            Gottlieb gave a choked sound of purest aggravation, refusing to dignify the jab with a response. He kept walking and Newt couldn’t help but laugh as he disappeared down the corridor, childishly pleased with himself. The humor faded a second later as he found himself surrounded by Shatterdome workers who were all staring at him, abruptly looking away when he made eye contact. He flushed and cleared his throat awkwardly, hands stuffed into his pockets as he slunk into the background.

            It had been almost a month since the _incident_ , and Newt still found himself ostracized. He couldn’t tell if it was suspicion, revulsion or fear that made people skirt around him or turn away when he approached, and there were the whispers that always rose in his wake when he left a room. He ignored it all as best he could, but it was starting to wear on him.

            His stomach growled, reminding him unhelpfully that he and Gottlieb had been trapped in meetings all day with no time to eat. It was dull work asking for funding and planning out grant letters and petitions, but they were the heads of the K-Science department and that was part of their jobs now. Newt would’ve given a lot for a decent office assistant they could shove the boring work on so he could focus on his own projects.

            He would have given a lot for people to stop flinching every time he got close, too, but that was apparently not in the cards. He walked down the corridor with his head bowed, eyes staring at the ground and muttering ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ every few seconds, trying to walk as quickly as possible without making any sudden moves. The effect he was having on people was not an enjoyable experience; it made him feel more and more like a freak every day, giving him the excuse to stay holed up in the lab where no one bothered him.

            It wasn’t as though he was entirely shunned, though. Mako and Raleigh both liked him – or tolerated him, he wasn’t entirely sure which. Tendo was good for conversation and made a point to eat with him in the mess when everyone else cleared away from the table. Even Marshall Hansen dropped by the lab to check in from time to time.

            And of course, Gottlieb was around too.

            Newt winced in delayed embarrassment at the thought of his lab partner. He really hadn’t meant to cause another fight this time. He had just been so damn _sure_ that he had seen a flicker of blue light in his mouth reflected in his coffee when he was taking a sip, a harsh glow just like the nodes on Otachi’s tongue. He had _needed_ to check. But there had been nothing there, and now several people from Accounting thought he was even more of a nutcase and Gottlieb was ready to strangle him.

               His stomach growled again. Newt didn’t like the idea of going into the mess alone, but there was nothing to eat in his quarters and he didn’t have change for the vending machines in the Jaeger bay’s break room. It was too early in the day for Tendo to be off duty; he would have to suck it up and find a far corner where he could eat alone. It felt like high school all over again, though just a tad more emotionally scarring with the isolation.

            Conversation in the mess lulled when he hopped down the stairs two at a time, pretending nonchalance. He stood in line and refused to look around the room and acknowledge the people staring at him, and eventually voices rose back into normal levels. He loaded his tray without really looking at what he was grabbing, willing the cold knot of humiliation sitting so heavily in his chest to go away. This was ridiculous. None of these people had any right to judge him like they were. He hadn’t done anything wrong _._

            Sure, he’d done plenty of _stupid_ things. He was more than willing to acknowledge that. But nothing _wrong._

            Well. Except for maybe trying to bash that one guard’s head in. And the other guard with the broken collarbone. And he _had_ bitten a guy.

            Newt felt his face burn in contrast to the iciness in his chest, and he ducked his head as he walked to the farthest corner of the mess he could find. A gaggle of pilot program recruits watched him pass, and he tried to ignore them.

            “-is he even _human?_ ”

            Newt froze mid-step. The words had been whispered, but they rang in his ears like they had been shouted. The recruits smothered their conversation and stared at him, and he looked away and kept walking. His food tasted like ash but he forced it down.

            It was a valid question. He would sure as hell like the answer. It wasn’t just the reflections that were plaguing him; every night, he dreamed. The ocean, the Anteverse…cities. He hated the dreams about cities most of all. He didn’t want to think of them as memories, but it was a weak denial at best.

The first one had been a fragmented, terrifying dream about Karloff. Newt had never been to Vancouver personally, but he had studied the footage of the battle between the kaiju and Brawler Yukon so closely he could picture the destroyed city blocks perfectly. It had been the phantom pain of the Jaeger beating Karloff to death that had woken him with a strangled shout.

Gottlieb had heard him and sat with him all through the night after that. Never questioning, never prodding, just offering his presence and dismissing Newt’s humiliated apologies. The embarrassment returned and turned to guilt, souring Newt’s stomach. He would definitely have to apologize for acting like such an idiot. There had been a lot of dreams since, and Gottlieb had been an uncharacteristically patient presence through the aftermath of every one.

Appetite gone, Newt pushed his tray away and stood. Conversation around him stuttered again but he ignored it, and he forced himself to hold his head up as he walked past the recruits again.

“-what _is_ he?”

It was the same voice, and this time the speaker hadn’t bothered to whisper. Newt looked over at him, jaw working slightly. The recruit looked back.

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” Newt asked. The recruit’s friends demurred and looked away, but he sat up straighter and stared at him.

“No,” he said, letting a pregnant pause pass before adding on, “ _sir.”_ Newt had never heard so much contempt poured into a single syllable before.

“Do you have some kind of _problem_ with me, _recruit?_ ” he asked icily. The kid’s eyes narrowed slightly. Newt realized the conversation was winding down into mutters again, and a spike of anger shot through him. He looked around the room defiantly. “Does _anyone_ have something they feel like saying to me?”

No one took up the challenge. Newt forced a thin smile, shrugging and starting to walk again.

“Actually, yeah,” the recruit called. Newt’s shoulders hunched and he turned around. The kid was standing now, face aglow with the kind of cockiness only idiots and bullies could pull off. “We were just wondering what you _are._ Kind of a running debate.”

“Well, I’m about ten years your senior here and a hell of a lot smarter,” Newt said loudly. The kid glared. “Yeah. So maybe a little more _deference_ would be good. And an apology.”

“Sorry,” the recruit muttered.

“Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, _sir.”_

“No problem,” Newt said. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“Kaiju-lovin’ _freakshow_.”

Anger had never used to be such an issue for Newt. Now the slightest thing could set him off. He wheeled around and stalked towards the recruit, hands balling into tight fists.

“You want to say that to me again?” he asked softly. Some of the cockiness had faded from the kid, and all of his friends were refusing to look up from their trays. “Go ahead. _Say it._ ”

“S…sorry, sir.”

“Say it again _._ ”

“Doctor _Geiszler_.”

Newt glanced over his shoulder, the anger fading. Gottlieb was standing at the foot of the stairs, ignoring the people staring. Newt looked from him to the recruit and back again, then shook his head and turned away.

“You can’t stay out of trouble for more than five minutes, can you,” Gottlieb said in an undertone, walking behind Newt as he brushed past and left the mess.

“I didn’t need your help.”

“On the contrary. You looked like you were about to start something you were going to regret.”

“You’re not my babysitter,” Newt snapped, rounding on him. “Why’d you even come here? How’d you even _know_ I was here?”

Gottlieb tapped his temple above his right eye.

“Call it intuition,” he said dryly. Newt stared at him a moment, then sighed and kept walking.

“Fine. Thanks, I guess. Can I go back to the lab now or are you still mad at me?”

“If you promise not to make faces in anything reflective, I suppose I could let you come back.”

“ _Terribly_ generous of you.”

Gottlieb laughed slightly.

“What can I say? It’s a dreadful flaw.”

“Yeah, you've got a few of those.”

“Now’s hardly the time to start calling the kettle black, Newton.”

Newt smiled reluctantly, and Gottlieb clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. Behind them, the murmurs in the mess rose into a buzz of talk like a kicked hornet’s nest.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

 

 

            “So, do you actually care to tell me what that was all about?”

            “No.”

            Gottlieb sighed as he watched Newt scribble barely-readable notes, eyes glued to his microscope. The pen went off the paper and he started writing on his desk, only realizing what he was doing when his hand went off the side and he started scribbling in empty air.

            “You can’t go picking fights, Newton. You won’t win them.”

            Newt gave Gottlieb a dirty look, mouth twisting.

            “You have absolutely no faith in me.”

            “Not true,” Gottlieb said, abandoning his chalkboards and limping over to Newt’s desk, sitting on its edge. “I have faith you would go into it with the full intention of winning. I just don’t see that actually _happening._ ”

            “Yeah well, I almost split a guy’s skull open,” Newt muttered, turning back to his microscope and setting his pen to paper.

            “That wasn’t you, and you know it.”

            “Hermann. I’m trying to work.”

            “You’re trying to avoid the subject. You’ve been dodging every attempt from _anyone_ to talk to you about-”

            Newt looked up from his microscope again and rolled his eyes to the ceiling in irritation, tossing the pen away.

 “Maybe I don’t want to think about it more than I have to. Has that _actually occurred_ to you?” he asked harshly.

            “Be as prickly as you want, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re refusing to let anyone help you,” Gottlieb retorted. “Some things cannot be borne alone, Newton.”

            “This can. I’m _fine_.”

            They stared at each other for a moment, and Gottlieb shook his head. His severe expression eased into something so profoundly worried Newt felt ashamed and had to look away.

            “It’s like a wound,” he said eventually. “If I just…if I leave it alone for a little bit, don’t think about it, I forget. It closes up. But the minute someone, someone _mentions_ it, or…”

            He shook his head wearily, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes. He knocked his glasses askew and they fell off, clattering to the floor. He didn’t bother to pick them up.

            “I’m not sorry about what I did to cause this,” he said. “I just wish it would hurry up and heal.”

            “Have you given any thought to the fact that I did it right alongside you?” Gottlieb asked mildly. Newt glanced up at him. “You’re not the only one who feels the aftershocks, Newton. I actually _can_ relate to what’s happening to you, if you’d take the time to confide in me.”

            “I do _confide,_ ” Newt said, voice turning sour on the word. “When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep? Every night it’s something else with me. I don’t…I don’t want to be this.”

            “Be what?”

            Newt looked away and fell stubbornly silent, grabbing blindly for his pen again.

            _burden_

Gottlieb jolted.

            “You’re not a _burden,_ Newton. How could you even think that?”

            Newt looked up at him slowly.

            “I…I didn’t say anything.”

            Gottlieb fell silent, a hand half-raising unconsciously to his temple. He gave Newt a long look, sliding off the desk and stooping to pick up his glasses. He handed them back to Newt abruptly.

            “Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other,” he said. Newt took his glasses back slowly, pushing them on again. “And even if that involves nightmares and arguments and… _side effects_ , I am here to help you. You can play the cross-bearer as much as you want, but you will _not_ carry on as though you’re utterly alone. It’s insulting.”

            “I didn’t mean to…”

            “To what? Imply that the minute I weary of you I’m going to leave?”

            “Everyone does!” Newt snapped, throwing his hands up. “You wanted to kill me after _three months_ when we started working together. I’m…I’m _me._ I don’t mesh with anyone. And now, hooray, I’ve gone and royally screwed myself up and have….I don't even know! Kaiju thought-cancer or something!”

            “Thought-cancer?”

            “Oh, shut up.”

            “No, that….seems apropos.”

            Newt braced his arms on the desk edge, hiding his face in his hands.

            “I hate that I know what that word means now. I’ve got Hermann _and_ kaiju thought-cancer.”

            “You didn’t know what apropos means?”

            “It’s not a word you use in conversation that often. That’s like…it’s a word you use for Scrabble. Not normal human interaction.”

            “My God, man, you have six Ph.D.’s and you didn’t know what _apropos_ means,” Gottlieb said, allowing the topic to veer off for a moment. Newt laughed a little, looking up at him again with a shrug.

            “Biologist, not an English major.”

            “Indeed not. You’ve barely mastered the language for normal conversation. Its subtleties elude you _._ ”

            Newt laughed again, and the sound was a little more genuine. His good humor faded as he stared at his microscope, suddenly unwilling to look at the kaiju tissue sample in the slide. He was silent for a long moment and it was like a shadow passed over him.

            “I don’t feel human anymore.”

            Gottlieb said nothing, toying with his cane and studying his hands. Crescent-shaped scars marred them, where a monster had pinned him down and clawed into him until he bled.

            “You are entirely human,” he said softly. “You do not give yourself enough credit for what you’ve endured. Greater-seeming people than you have been broken by less. I don’t understand why you cannot remember this.”

            Newt shrugged again.

            “Maybe I don’t like myself that much, Hermann.”

            Gottlieb snorted before he could stop himself.

            “ _Please_. I have never met anyone more infatuated with their own ego in my life.”

            Newt stared at him, and then burst out laughing.

            “You absolute _shithead!_ ”

            Gottlieb patted Newt’s shoulder with mocking comfort.

            “There, there. I know it can be hard to face uncomfortable truths.”

            “I’m gonna punch you in the teeth, I swear to God.”

            “I’m absolutely terrified,” Gottlieb said blandly, though he was grinning when Newt finally looked up again. “Shall I start running for my life now, or after you’ve finished feeling sorry for yourself?”

            “You don’t run. You _bunny hop._ I’ve seen it, it’s tragic.”

            “Better than what you do. You skitter like a frightened cockroach.”

            “I do _not_ \- oh my God, get the hell away from me. I’ll punch you, I mean it.”

            With a derisive sound, Gottlieb limped back to his side of the lab.

            “Which brings us right back to the original discussion. If you start a fight, I _highly_ doubt you’ll win it. No wonder you need me around. You would probably be dead in a ditch by the end of the week if I wasn’t looking out for you.”

            Newt rolled his eyes, leaning back over his microscope.

            “Yeah, yeah. _Thanks._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

3.

 

 

            Newt stayed out of sight for a few days after the confrontation in the mess. Gottlieb had been resignedly bringing him food, though he was forgetting to eat unless he was told to. He’d thrown himself into his work to the point that he was forgetting to sleep as well – and arguing with Gottlieb about it wasn’t doing much to solve the issue.

            “I’m reaching my wit’s end,” Gottlieb said, leaning on Tendo’s console. The LOCCENT was quiet for the moment, the sparse evening crew manning consoles around the room. “He constantly says one thing and does another. He wants me around but the minute I attempt to speak with him about things that are troubling him, he snaps at me.”

            “Well, he’s wired for sound,” Tendo said, not looking up from the holo-display. “I have _yet_ to see him handle stress gracefully. I wouldn’t take it personally, Hermann.”

            “If it was stress from an encroaching deadline or pressure from work, I would agree with you,” Gottlieb said sourly. “You can appreciate that the source is a bit _different_ in this case.”

            “I know, I know,” Tendo said, glancing briefly up at him. “I dunno what to tell you. He’s…he’s _Newt._ This is what he does. He’ll wind himself up, probably start fixating, then in like a month something else will come up and he’ll start all over.”

            “That’s half the trouble. There is no new problem to catch his attention. His fixation is with his trauma, and nothing I try to do can distract him from it.”

            Gottlieb rolled his cane absently between his hands, the brass tip scraping across the floor. Disturbed by the noise, Max shuffled heavily out from under the console and gave Gottlieb a cursory sniff before trotting to another console and flopping under it to sleep.

            “Doesn’t he make messes in here?”

            Tendo shuddered, only half-joking.

            “We don’t talk about the messes.”

            “I’m surprised the Marshall allows him in here.”

            “I’m the babysitter for a lot of different things these days,” Tendo said. “I could take over with Newt if you’re getting burned out on it.”

            Gottlieb gave him a wry look, and Tendo held up his hands.

            “Just offerin’.”

            “Personally I’d just like a day where I’m not concerned he’s going to jump off the docks,” Gottlieb said.

            “Is…is it that bad?” Tendo turned to look at him. Gottlieb didn’t answer right away. “ _Hermann._ Is it actually that bad?”

            “No,” Gottlieb said eventually. “But there are times at night when…”

            He trailed off, absently tapping at his temple.

            “There are terrible things burned into his mind,” he continued. “The memories of them will not let him be. The Drift bond between him and the kaiju was laid so deeply that to have it suddenly severed was...I’m not sure.”

            “Scarring?” Tendo offered. Gottlieb nodded.

            “When one pilot in a Drift bond dies the survivor goes on, but always as though...like a piece of their _heart_ is missing,” he said. “In Newton’s case it wasn’t a singular loss. His bond is frayed into so many broken connections it is almost impossible to compass.”

            “But he’s got the one with you, doesn’t he?”

            Gottlieb hesitated, studying the floor.

            “Yes…he does. But a _human_ bond does not seem to help with recovering from a shattered _kaiju_ bond.”

            “Has he been ghosting?”

            “Probably,” Gottlieb said dryly. “It would explain the latest eccentricities at least.”

            “Have _you?”_

“Have I been what?”

            “Been ghost-Drifting.”

            “I suppose so. Snatches of dreams and emotions,” Gottlieb said, voice growing distant. He stared unblinking at the floor. “Flashes of thoughts, if he thinks it clearly enough. I know where he is in a room without having to look. Nothing out of the ordinary for an… extraordinary circumstance.”

            Tendo swiveled absently in his chair, watching the holo-display without really seeing it. Drifting was something out of pure science fiction to him; invisible bonds and shared minds, people melding into a single new consciousness. It rattled him at a deep level he didn’t quite understand. Maybe because he would never have to do it, he didn’t have to think about how deep and strange the Drift really was.

            “So the kaiju didn’t get into your head at all?”

            Gottlieb snapped back to reality, blinking.

            “No,” he said, the word twisting with distaste. “Perhaps if I had been privy to the hivemind’s inner workings I would feel the loss as strongly as Newton does, but it did not infect me.”

            “Maybe half the problem you’re having talking to him is because of that,” Tendo said. Gottlieb gave him a puzzled look. “You talk about it like it’s a disease. You don’t know everything he went through.”

            “I spoke to that _aberration._ It was every bit as foul as one would expect them to be.”

            “You talked to _one,_ ” Tendo corrected. “That was suffering and dying, by the way. Cut off from everything it knew. It was gonna give you attitude no matter what you said to it.”

            “You sound like he does,” Gottlieb said, disapproving. Tendo shrugged, fidgeting with the rosary around his wrist.

            “I’m not claiming any sympathy. I hate ‘em as much as anybody else, believe me,” he said. “But Newt’s got perspective we don’t. And it’s probably screwing with him more than he’s letting on.”

            Gottlieb looked at him skeptically.

            “If he died tomorrow, wouldn’t you mourn?” Tendo challenged. Gottlieb’s expression shuttered.

            “Of _course_ I would.”

            “Because you’re friends. And because a part of you would be snuffed out.”

            “Yes…?”

            “So imagine wanting to mourn for something you _know_ is a monster,” Tendo said.  “You want to grieve for it and the part of you that died _with_ it, but you feel guilty about grieving. I mean…excuse my language, but wouldn’t it fuck with your head?”

            Gottlieb fell silent, considering.

            “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

            Tendo turned back to the holo-display.

            “Go gently with him,” he said. “I know you guys are oil and water even when you’re getting along, but…”

            “I know,” Gottlieb sighed. “I know.”

 

\--

 

            “Alright…anti-giant bug alien weapons experiment, test one.”

            Newt set the recorder on his desk, steepling his fingers and leaning back in his chair as he stared at his computer. Several screens were running at once, lines of data compiling as he ran one test scenario after another.

            “Based on research on kaiju tissue samples, I’ve managed to get a solid idea of chemical make-up,” he said. “Theoretically everything I’ve come up with so far should reduce an exposed target to sludge. Which leads to the issue of containing Kaiju Blue, which in itself leads to the issue of poisoning groundwater and spreading cancer everywhere, but…”

            He trailed off, leaning far enough back to stare at the ceiling. The lights glaring down at him hurt his eyes but he didn’t even blink.

            “Again, theoretically, isolating components of kaiju make-up could arguably lead to figuring out what their masters are made of,” he said. “Possibly carbon-based, but alternatives like silicon or arsenic aren’t out of the question. I mean, I can probably just work through the whole table of elements until I find something probable.”

            He spun around in his chair and slid off, grabbing the recorder and wandering the lab with it.

            “Seeing as they wanted to colonize a world made primarily for carbon-based life, it’s not out of the question that we share the same weaknesses. Cyanide, plutonium, anything fatal to a human could probably lay on some serious hurt.”

            He stopped in front of his collected specimen tanks, drumming his fingers absently against the glass.

            “Unless they’re adaptive through construction like kaiju,” he muttered. “Maybe they replenish ranks through cloning. In which case…”

            The computer pinged to signal the test’s completion, and Newt hurried back to his desk.

            “Okay, primary carbon-based test results read out as…chemical deployment with a hundred percent fatality rate, _fantastic!_ And projected civilian loss…oh.”

            Newt winced, sucking a breath in through his teeth.

            “Population size equivalent of entirety of Chicago. Um…alright. Not a big deal. I can tweak that.”

            He spun around in his chair again, catching a brief glimpse of his reflection in a specimen tank. The fleeting flash of electric blue made him freeze, and he sat in his chair as though afraid to turn and look.

            “Um,” he said, voice cracking. “The…uh…”

            He turned his head slowly towards the tank. The blue flash flickered again. Newt stood and approached the tank, the recorder forgotten in his hand. He stared at himself, the reflection of his left eye marred with a slit pupil and a poisonous blue glow. He blinked hard and the image disappeared.

            “Shit.”

            Resting his forehead against the cold glass, Newt took a deep breath and tried to settle himself. It wasn’t real. He _knew_ it wasn’t real.

            “Doctor Geiszler?”

            Newt gave a startled yelp and turned, throwing the recorder in pure reflex. Raleigh ducked as it sailed over him, clattering out into the hallway.

            “Oh my god. _Oh my god!_ I’m so sorry,” Newt said, panicked. “Oh god Raleigh _I’m really sorry-”_

Raleigh straightened, looking shocked.

            “ _Jesus_ , Newt! You’ll give someone a concussion that way.”

            “You surprised me, I didn’t mean to-”

            “Calm down. It’s fine, I’m fine,” Raleigh said. He even laughed slightly. “Good arm.”

            Newt smiled back feebly, his face aflame with embarrassment.

            “I…uh. Did you need something?”

            “Marshall Hansen sent me to come get you. Said you weren’t responding to his calls.”

            “Oh. I, uh…kind of turned the vid-call off. And unplugged it.”

            “Well, I just got out from meeting with him, so-”

            “Meeting? About what?”

            Raleigh grinned, fishing a slightly crumpled letter out of his back pocket and handing it to Newt. Newt scanned it, then blinked in shock and reread it word by word.

            “Holy shit, they’re…”

            “Full rights to Oblivion Bay,” Raleigh said, sounding triumphant. “Mako’s helping consult the Mark Three mass restorations.”

            “This…this is fantastic,” Newt said, reading the letter a third time. “Okay…’ _Dear Marshall Hansen’,_ blah blah political jargon we’re really sorry we were ignoring everything you said _… ‘after careful deliberations, we do hereby give you’-”_

“ _Full autonomy in regards to salvaging and rebuilding the Jaeger program by any means necessary_ ,” Raleigh recited, grinning fit to burst. “I don’t know what he said to them, but they quit digging their heels in. We’re heading out to the States next week to get started.”

            Newt’s enthusiasm faded as he looked up from the letter.

            “You’re….you’re leaving?”

            Raleigh nodded.

            “Me and Mako are the only Mark Three pilots left,” he said. “If we’re gonna start salvaging, they need people with the know-how to test systems as they’re restored, that kind of thing.”

            A cold pit formed in Newt’s stomach. He handed the letter back slowly.

            “Why does the Marshall want to see me?”

            Raleigh folded the letter up again, giving Newt a kind look.

            “I don’t know. But you probably shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer. You want me to walk with you?”

            “No, I’m…no. Thanks,” Newt said absently, brushing past Raleigh. “Glad it worked out for you guys.”

            Raleigh watched him walk out with his head ducked down, kicking the recorder back into the lab as he left. He picked it up without comment, clicking it off and setting it carefully on Newt’s desk.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

 

            Newt stood in the middle of Herc’s office, feeling obscurely like he’d been sent to the principal. The Marshall was behind his desk, finishing up a last bit of paperwork when Newt had finally worked up the nerve to come in. Herc glanced up at him with a small smile at first, though it faded at the look on Newt’s face.

            “You’re not in trouble,” he said. “This isn’t a disciplinary thing, Doctor Geiszler. Try not to look so tense.”

            “Sorry,” Newt said reflexively. He looked around awkwardly and sat down uninvited by Herc’s desk, studying his hands. “I, uh…Raleigh told me about Oblivion Bay. That’s…that’s great.”

            “It is,” Herc said. “A lot of the Jaegers dumped there are still viable for use after repairs, depending on how quickly we can get the materials to fix them. It’s the oldest ones that’ll have to be scrapped and built up again from scratch. Mako’s already told me she’s got plans for Tacit Ronin.”

            Despite the unreasonable anxiety biting at him, Newt couldn’t help but grin. Mako had restored Gipsy Danger with next to no materials and time working against her every step of the way. With the Breach closed and a little breathing room gained, who even _knew_ what she could do with the resources in Oblivion Bay.

            “And Raleigh’s going with her to consult?” he asked. Herc nodded.

            “There’s piloting instructors and Jaeger techs floating around out there we’re starting to bring back to the fold, but those two are the only ones with the direct know-how to make sure the Mark Threes are back to fighting condition. Any Mark Fives they scrounge up, I’ll be helping out with.”

            “On top of everything else they’ve got you doing?”

            Herc laughed slightly.

            “I’m not in it alone. It’s like the entire PPDC is rising from ashes. Tendo’s going to start looking at LOCCENT administrator hirings and training programs, for one. And they’re starting to reopen other Shatterdome sites.”

            “So we’re not the bastion of the resistance anymore, huh?”

            “The resistance won where posturing and promises failed,” Herc said. “We’re heroes, whether the UN wants to acknowledge that or not. I’ve been _gently_ reminding them every time a bit of red tape keeps popping up in our path.”

            Newt laughed, though it stuttered as the lights suddenly flickered. They faded to a struggling brownout, and then snapped back on. Herc sighed.

            “Not a moment too soon,” he said. “The pull on the power grid’s finally starting to show. That’s the third one today.”

            There was a faint hiss like static and a bulb burst in the hallway. Newt jumped at the noise, turning to look over his shoulder.

            “Place is kind of falling apart at the seams,” he said. “How are the other Shatterdomes?”

            “About the same, but you’ve got to start somewhere,” Herc said, almost cheerfully. “The Anchorage site’s getting the most attention right now. No more recruits sent up here, they get to freeze their arses off in Alaska instead.”

            “I can’t even feel sorry for ‘em. No, wait, let me try,” Newt said, holding a finger up and looking thoughtful. He shook his head a second later. “ _Nope_ , can’t do it.”

            “Seeing as you’ve been butting heads with a few of ‘em, I can’t blame you,” Herc said dryly. Newt flinched slightly.

            “I…sir, I-”

            Herc held a hand up.

            “This is not a disciplinary meeting,” he said patiently. “Tendo got wind of what happened and put that particular recruit on latrine duties for a week. You don’t have to put up with that kind of insubordination, Newt. You should’ve reported it.”

            Newt sunk into his chair, looking everywhere but at Herc.

            “That’s not…he didn’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal.”

            “It is,” Herc said sternly. “You’ve done _incredible_ things a lot of people can’t begin to grasp. Don’t let them take that away from you by making you feel like you’re less than them.”

            “ _Other_ than them,” Newt said absently. “Not less.”

             Herc watched him for a moment, and then sighed.

            “I can’t say I can understand what you’re going through,” he said, leaning over his desk and trying to catch Newt’s eye. “But you need to know that I will always have your back, Newton. No matter what anyone thinks, _or_ what you think about yourself.”

            “All due respect sir, but I think you can understand,” Newt said, voice dropping.

            “How so?”

            “Your son’s gone,” he said, looking up at Herc tiredly. “There’s part of you missing. It’s no different for me.”

            He fully expected the Marshall to recoil or get angry with him at the comparison, but Herc merely studied him for a moment.

            “Is that really what it feels like?” he asked. Newt hesitated, and then nodded slightly. “Then….yes. I do understand. It’s going to hurt like hell for a while. But it’ll ease over time.”

            “I don’t think it will,” Newt said softly. His voice was cracking and he hated himself for it.

            “You think that now because it hurts,” Herc said gently. “Pain fades, Newt. You never forget what causes it, and there’ll be reminders no matter what you do. But pain fades.”

            Newt didn’t answer. He looked down again, studying his tattoos of Yamarashi and Hammerjaw until Herc leaned back in his chair, shifting a pile of paperwork and pulling out a letter. He pushed it over the desk towards Newt.

            “This came for you.”

            Newt looked from the Marshall to the letter in puzzlement, unfolding it slowly. His eyes widened the first time he read it, and he blinked as though someone had hit him in the head. He read it again, then again, mouth hanging open.

            “Pitcairn?” he asked, looking up at Herc again in shock. “They’re assigning me to _Pitcairn Island?_ ”

            “Not permanently,” Herc said. “But they’re requesting you. We’re moving out from Hong Kong, Newt. The Chinese want their facility back, and we’re on borrowed time until everyone’s dispersed to new postings.”

            “But this is _home,_ ” Newt said, alarmed. He paused, looking puzzled with himself. “I mean…”

            “I know what you mean,” Herc said. “But things are changing.”

            “They don’t mention Hermann in this,” Newt said, shaking the letter. “Only me.”

            “Doctor Gottlieb is going to be stationed at the Los Angeles Shatterdome temporarily,” Herc said. Newt turned so starkly grey Herc could have kicked himself. “And you’ll be joining him, Newt, calm down. But his assignment is foremost to help with the Oblivion Bay projects. Pitcairn is a K-Science facility that’s geared towards _your_ field of expertise. They don’t need a physicist there.”

            “ _I_ do,” Newt blurted before he could stop himself. “I can’t…don’t send me away like this. Marshall, you… _please._ I…”

            He ducked his head down in humiliation, trying to ward off the panic attack that was building like prickling, painful heat in his chest.

            “You’re not going to be alone,” Herc said. Newt looked up at him. “Tendo’s going with you.”

            “Tendo…? Why? He’s not-”

            “He’ll be going with you as far as Auckland,” Herc said. “You’ll be there a week or so while everything’s settled on Pitcairn. This place isn’t a good environment for you anymore, Newt. When was the last time you actually saw daylight?”

            Newt started to answer, then hesitated and sat back.

            “I see it from my window,” he offered eventually. “That counts.”

            “You’re becoming a shut-in,” Herc said. “I know this is hard, Newt. I do. But it’s in your best interest to move on from here. We’re not abandoning you. Things are just…changing.”

            Newt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his hands wearily to his face, pushing his glasses hard up against his nose.

            “Why is Tendo coming with me?”

            “Because he’s the one I can spare, believe it or not,” Herc said. “He’ll go with you to New Zealand, see you off to Pitcairn, and then he’s going to the Los Angeles site.”

            “Not Anchorage?”

            “Eventually, yes. That’s my new permanent posting once they chip all the ice off.”

            Newt smiled a little, weak as the joke was.

            “I don’t really have a choice with this, do I.”

            “Choice is relative,” Herc said. “You have options, but none of them are ones you like. You can stay here and keep on the path you’ve been on, go to Pitcairn, or you can leave entirely.”

            “I don’t want to leave,” Newt muttered. “This is…”

            “Home,” Herc finished. Newt nodded. “You belong with the Corps, Newt. I _know_ this is home to you.”

            Newt was silent for a moment, then unfolded his letter again.

            “When do they want me to go?”

            “Within a week.”

            “And everyone else…?”

            “We’re all packing up.”

            Newt sighed heavily, getting up and pocketing the letter.

            “I’m ready whenever you need me to go,” he said. Herc nodded.

            “Thank you, Doctor Geiszler. I know you’ll be wanting to discuss this with Doctor Gottlieb, so…”

            “Just give me a day or so, sir. I’ll be ready when you need me.”

            “Good. Dismissed.”

            Newt gave a vague salute and turned away, feeling that no matter what the Marshall said, he was being discarded.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

 

            “You’re not going.”

            Newt shoveled a forkful of instant macaroni and cheese into his mouth, flipping through a magazine without looking up.

            “Yeah. Okay, Mom.”

            Gottlieb was pacing in the tiny living room-slash-kitchenette, looking more and more agitated by the second. Newt’s resignation was only adding fuel to the fire.

            “What on earth is the Marshall even _thinking?_ Why aren’t you _fighting_ this?”

            “Because.”

            “Will you stop sulking for one moment and look at me, you damned fool!”

            Newt looked up, peering over his glasses at Gottlieb. He shrugged and went back to his food indifferently.

            “Can’t fight the tide, Hermann. Everybody’s going different directions. You get to go to LA, I…get to go to a rock in the middle of the ocean.”

            Gottlieb started pacing again, so quickly that his cane slipped and he stumbled. Newt was up and out of his chair before he even realized he was moving, though Gottlieb waved him off.

            “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Gottlieb said. “Thank you.”

            Newt shrugged again, taking his plate and throwing it listlessly into the sink.

            “ _Everybody’s_ fine,” he muttered, wincing at the almost-scalding heat of the water as he washed up. “Things are _great_ , everybody’s moving forward.”

            A wave of bitterness and anxiety constricted in his chest so tightly Newt couldn’t breathe for a second, and behind him Gottlieb made a sick-sounding noise. He looked over at his shoulder.

            “You sure you’re okay?”

            Gottlieb rubbed unconsciously at his chest as though to dispel pain, sitting down heavily at the table.

            “Being bonded to you can be _trying_ ,” he said dryly. “Especially when you’re this damned upset.”

            “Oh.”

            Well, there wasn’t much he could say to that. Newt sat down again across from him, fingers rapping restlessly on the tabletop. The silence spiraled between them awkwardly, and finally Newt sighed.

            “I don’t want to go,” he said. “I’m barely keeping it together as it is. But…I don’t have any other choices. If I stay here, everybody’s gonna leave. I go there, I’m isolated until they let me go. Or…I just…”

            “Just what?”

            Newt picked at a tear in the vinyl, resisting the urge to rip it open further.

            “I leave. Pack up, go home. Wherever the hell that is. Maybe back to MIT, I don’t know. I left on good terms with them, I could still go back.”

            “University attendance isn’t what it used to be,” Gottlieb said wryly. Newt grinned despite himself.

            “Hey. Helped save the world, remember? I could fast-track myself into tenure, get a nice apartment and wander in Hyde Park every day screaming about the endtimes.”

            “I thought you disliked being mistaken for a BuenaKai fanatic.”

            “Oh, I do. I’m a lot of things, but at least I’m not _that_ brand of crazy.”

            “You’re not crazy at all,” Gottlieb said sourly. “I wish you’d stop saying that.”

            Newt scowled in unreasonable irritation and got up abruptly.

            “I’m going to bed.”   

            “Oh, for…you’re avoiding the topic _again_.”

            “Damn straight I am. Night.”

            “Newton-”

            Gottlieb followed him doggedly across the room, pushing against the door as Newt tried to close it in his face.

            “I’m _tired,_ Hermann.”

            “I happen to know for a fact that you’re not,” Gottlieb snapped. “You can’t exactly _hide_ things from me anymore.”

            “Jesus Christ! Will you stop throwing your stupid goddamned bond in my face like you think I fucking _care_ about it?”

            The words were like poison and Newt regretted them the minute they slipped out. Gottlieb looked genuinely hurt, backing away a few steps.

            “My apologies,” he said coolly. “Good night, Newton.”

            Newt yanked his door open and tried to follow him, the roles ironically reversed.

            “Hermann, I didn’t mean…I’m sorry. Please.”

            Gottlieb didn’t look back at him, merely limping to his own room and snapping the door closed. Newt stood aimlessly in the middle of the room for a second, biting his tongue painfully hard. Great. Now he’d _really_ gone and done it.

He slunk back into his room and quietly shut the door.

 

\--

 

            _painpainpain water cold silence pain silence alonealonealone_

 

              _nononononono not real not real     not          real_

_Burnt flesh, broken bones. Dying by inches in cold water, a body decaying even as it breathes. Everything hurts. And it is all alone…except for a tiny, insignificant flicker rooted like a parasite in its mind. It hates the flicker more than anything else, wants to crush it and smother it, but it needs that tiny presence more than air. It takes its enemy into its heart because it is terrified of dying alone._

 

            _Painpainpainpainpain tired tired pain dying tired_

_Letmegoletmego I don’t want to die with you let    me       go_

            _Scunner’s broken body shivers violently in the water. The taste of its own blood fills its mouth, and there’s pain like fire shooting through it. It thrashes and coughs, and with every cough it feels parts of itself loosening from the inside. Its life spills out its mouth and it screams in terror. It lingered so long in the ocean hoping the doorway would open again to bring it home. But there’s no door. No way back. There is only death._

_A final cough shudders through it and its head crashes down against the ground, and it watches with dimming eyes as small, skittering things gather to watch it. It hates them.  It draws one last struggling breath, and it **screams-**_

****

Scunner’s scream was tearing out of Newt’s throat, and he thrashed against the blankets twisted around him. He slid out of bed blindly, staggering against the wall and sliding against it to sit on the floor. His breath came in rapid bursts as though he had been sprinting, sweat soaking him. The taste of ammonia was heavy in his mouth and he spit reflexively. He looked down at himself, certain he was going to see luminous blue blood splattered all over his shirt, but there was nothing there.

            He hadn’t had any dreams about Scunner before, surprisingly. Of course the first one would be about the son of a bitch dying. Newt leaned back, resting his head against the cold concrete wall and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He wondered muzzily why Gottlieb wasn’t in the room with him, and the ugly memory of their fight drew him back to reality. Guilt made him more nauseous than the imagined taste of ammonia and he bit back a miserable, lonely sound.

            After ten minutes or so, there was a sound of movement outside his room. Newt fumbled for his glasses and pulled the door open, peeking out.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “I know you are,” Gottlieb said mildly, glancing over his shoulder. He took the kettle from the stovetop and set it down on the table. Newt sat down and hunched over, elbows resting on the edge. Gottlieb gave him a reproving look and he sat straighter.

            “I’m sorry,” Newt repeated. Gottlieb made a dismissive sound, pouring tea into two chipped mugs. Newt took his and drank without paying attention to the heat, though it felt like it was scalding his lips. He glanced at the clock in the stove.

            “You almost made it the whole night,” Gottlieb said. The neon green 2:42 blinked garishly, and Newt squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light.

            “Didn’t feel that way,” he said.

            “I suppose it wouldn’t. But they _are_ happening with less frequency, so that’s something to be pleased about.”

            Newt grunted, draining his mug and wiping his lips roughly with the back of his hand. The faint taste of ammonia lingered.

            “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said. Gottlieb watched him for a moment, and then poured him more tea. “I _have_ to go, there’s no choice. They want me for a reason. But I don’t know what to do.”

            “There _is_ a choice. And if you choose to leave the Corp, I’ll go with you,” Gottlieb said quietly. Newt jolted.

            “You’re not giving everything up just to play babysitter to me. _Don’t_ say that. It doesn’t make me feel any better.”

            “Alright, alright.”

            Newt leaned against the table again, running his hands over his face and through his hair in exhaustion.

"What were you dreaming of this time?"

"You didn't...didn't pick up on it?"

Gottlieb shrugged slightly.

"All I got was an impression of choking. That woke me up before it really started."

            “Oh. It was, uh...it was about Scunner, this time," Newt said. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of it. "It hated me.”

            “Did it?”  
            “Oh, yeah. I’m talking murderous _loathing._ Otachi wasn’t so bad, though. Mutavore either.”

            Gottlieb gave him a skeptical look, and Newt found the energy to grin a little.

            “No, it’s true. Mutavore was pretty okay.”

            “And how on earth did you meet _Mutavore?_ ”

            Newt hesitated, trying to think how he could frame the words the right way. How could he begin to explain what the hivemind had been like? The nightmare of the Anteverse and everything he’d seen there? He had tried a dozen times to talk about what had happened, but the words simply seemed to shrivel up before he could get them out.

Gottlieb waited patiently, sipping at his tea as though he had nothing but time and interest in what Newt had to say, and would understand it no matter how strange it sounded. It was comforting to have that kind of acceptance. And he was going to be going without it for a long time, very soon.

 Newt leaned back in his chair, downing a gulp of tea and clearing his throat as though trying to shake the words loose. And this time, finally, they came.

            “It started when I jumped through the Drift’s version of the Breach…”


	6. Chapter 6

6.

 

            It was a day later that Newt and Tendo were packed up and ready to leave the Shatterdome. Gottlieb had shaken Newt awake at four in the morning, pestering him to get ready when he was determined to sleep in and miss the flight out of Hong Kong.

            “Did you pack everything you need?”

            “Yes.”

            “Passport?”

            “In my pocket.”

            “Don’t put in your pocket for God’s sake, you’ll lose it.”

            Newt tried very hard not to roll his eyes, and failing that, tried not to do it while Gottlieb was watching. He got a hard elbowing in his side in response.

            “Don’t make that face at me. You can barely remember to comb your hair, heaven forbid someone actually trust you with important documents.”

            “Hermann, will you just _stop?_ I’ve survived this long, I think I can handle my own passport.”

            Gottlieb gave him an imperious look as they walked through the Jaeger bay floor.

            “Fine. What pocket is it in?”

            Newt grumbled, reaching into his right pants pocket. He paused, and then dug around in his other pockets and started patting himself down. He refused to make eye contact as Gottlieb observed him.

            “Just shut up, okay? I’ll find it.”

            “Did you drop it?”

            “Shut _up!”_

“Do you guys actually start arguing this early every day?”

            “Good morning, Tendo. Newton’s lost his passport.”

            Tendo sighed as he joined them, taking a long drink from the steel trucker thermos he clutched.

            “I didn’t _lose_ it,” Newt snapped, digging around in his jacket pockets. “Just…hold on. Just gimme a second.”

            “Just go back to the room and get it. It’s probably on the table.”

            Newt ripped his hands out of his pockets and threw them up in irritation, stalking away. Gottlieb watched him go with a reproving shake of his head.

            “And hurry back! Some of us actually have to stay _on schedule!”_

An annoyed snarl was all Gottlieb got in answer, and he grinned slightly. Tendo just shook his head and took another long drink of coffee, looking bleary-eyed.

            “He growled at you,” he said. “Is that a kaiju thing? Is he doing that all the time now?”

            “When he knows someone’s right and doesn’t want to admit it he loses the ability to articulate,” Gottlieb said dryly. “It’s not a new occurrence, don’t worry.”

            Tendo grunted, rubbing at his eyes and looking like he was considering slapping himself to wake himself up. Around them the last dregs of the night shift were milling around the floor, slowly being replaced by the early morning crew. In one far corner of the floor, covered in sparks falling in brilliant cascade, the skeleton of Crimson Typhoon was being reassembled bit by bit.

            “It’s good to see it again, isn’t it?” Gottlieb said. Tendo glanced over at the Jaeger and smiled ruefully.

            “It is. But they’re going to have to reconfigure how she works now that the Weis are gone.”

            “I did notice the third arm was missing….”

            “Jin controlled it,” Tendo said. “Cheung was the primary left arm, Hu was the right.”

            They stood and looked at Crimson Typhoon silently for a long moment. The Conn-Pod had been so utterly crushed that it had been unsalvageable – which meant that the pod served now as the triplets’ coffin, the wrecking crews unable to recover their bodies. Tendo had had to leave the LOCCENT and take half an hour to get himself back together when the pod had been dredged up from the water. At least Herc hadn’t begrudged him the grief now that there was time to express it.

            “I never took the time to know them,” Gottlieb said softly. “Or the Kaidonovskys.”

            “They were invincible,” Tendo said. “There was going to be time at some point. After the war, after everything went back to the way it was meant to. They…they weren’t _supposed_ to die.”

            “Too many weren’t supposed to,” Gottlieb replied.

            Sparks ran off Crimson Typhoon like water, and the welding and construction teams swarming it were silhouetted in the gold light. The scars of Otachi’s claws raked across its chest, exposing the ruined machinery of its insides slowly being patched back together.

            “Who will pilot it now?”

            Tendo shrugged.

            “They gotta get her back in some kind of order before they start assigning her a pilot team,” he said. “New Conn-Pod, system reconfiguration…she’s being gutted and built from the ground up again.”

            “Like what they’re going to do in Oblivion Bay?”

            “Like what they _have_ been doing,” Tendo said, cheering up a little. “Clearing out that Wall construction crap from the Los Angeles ‘dome and staffing it with Corps people again, for one. Getting everything ready to start repairs. Mako’s already made a list of Jaegers to bring in. Only the oldest need to be gutted.”

            “Newton _did_ mention her intentions for rebuilding Tacit Ronin.”

            Tendo laughed.

            “National pride’s a strong thing. But Tacit’s a Mark One, she’s got her eyes on the crop of Threes that’ve been sitting there first and foremost. Lucky us no one stripped them before dumping them.”

            “Luck isn’t what I’d call it,” Gottlieb said. “Jaegers sent to that burial ground should have been repaired, not discarded.”

            “Hard to get people to cough up funding for maintenance when the Jaeger in question’s been ripped limb from limb,” Tendo said mildly. “I can almost agree with the decisions about ‘em.”

            “Only almost?”

            “ _Only_ almost.”

            Gottlieb laughed slightly, though the amusement faded as he turned to look at Tendo.

            “I need you to do me a favor.”

            “Uh…sure? What’s on your mind?”

            “Look after him.”

            Tendo gave Gottlieb a bemused look.

            “Who, Newt?”

            “Who else?” Gottlieb said shortly. “He will not ask you for help. _Especially_ when he needs it. So…I would consider it a personal favor to me if you looked after him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish.”

            Tendo shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with his thermos.

            “Is there anything I should know? I mean, aside from what you already told me?”

            Gottlieb seemed hesitant to answer, and Tendo’s discomfort grew. He liked Newt. He really did. But the man _had_ gotten a lot weirder since the incident with Scunner.

            “He is adjusting to his scars,” Gottlieb said finally, giving Tendo a pleading look. “As you said yourself, Tendo. Go gently with him.”

            “That’s way too cryptic and you know it.”

            “It’s the only answer I have for you.”

            “It wasn’t on the table, it was on the bathroom counter. So shut up, Hermann.”

            Gottlieb looked over his shoulder and Newt glared at him as he rejoined them, his passport clutched in one hand. He was slightly flushed and sweating, his jacket bundled under his arm.

            “Did you jog all the way back?”

            “Some people have to stay _on schedule,_ ” Newt retorted, mocking Gottlieb’s accent. The only reaction was a patronizing pat on the shoulder.

            “You should exercise more. You look ill.”

            “Oh my _God_ will you shut up.”

            The pair swept across the bay floor, leaving Tendo behind, forgotten and hurrying to catch up to them.

 

\--

 

            The sun had barely risen past the horizon as they boarded the helicopter. Herc had gotten up early to see them off, taking Newt to one side before he followed Tendo aboard.

            “This is a pretty important place you’re headed,” he said. “Can you do me a favor?”

            Newt nodded.

            “Try to make a good first impression.”

            “How is that a favor? I make good impressions all the time. It’s not that hard.”

            Herc hesitated, wincing a little as he put a hand on Newt’s shoulder.

            “No. You make _impressions._ I’m asking you to actively try and make a _good_ one. Alright?”

            Newt wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not, and the look on his face told Herc as much. The Marshall sighed, giving him a small shake.

            “We need to stay on their good side,” he said. “Just…try, alright? For my sake?”

            “I’ll behave, Marshall,” Newt said dryly. The look of relief that flickered over Herc’s face didn’t help him feel any better about the conversation.

            “Good. And…”

            “Yeah?”

            Herc took Newt’s hand and shook it firmly.

            “Take _care_ , Doctor Geiszler. We’ll see you on the other side.”

            “No need to make it sound so final,” Newt said, though he smiled slightly as he let go. “Good luck in Los Angeles, sir.”

            Herc nodded and turned away, going to speak to the chopper pilot. Gottlieb stepped in at once, pressing a small package into his hands. Newt stared at it.

            “What…?”

            “To keep you occupied so you don’t irritate Tendo during the flight,” Gottlieb said brusquely. Newt tore the brown paper away and stared at the book, a startled laugh escaping him.

            “Where did you _get_ this?”

            “It wasn’t easy,” Gottlieb said. “I paid rather dearly to get it here on time.”

            Newt flipped through the book, mindful not to crack the leatherbound spine.

            “Didn’t think you were one for irony,” he said. Gottlieb shrugged, looking amused.

“You have a penchant for loving horrors. It seemed fitting.”

 Newt flicked through the pages and settled on a random passage, grinning as he read aloud.

“ _Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places. For them are the catacombs of Ptolemais, and the carven mausolea of the nightmare countries…_ Jesus, this’ll keep me awake more than the dreams.”

            “I’m sure they’ll provide you with a nightlight if you ask,” Gottlieb said, and Newt laughed as he shoved him. “You’re _welcome,_ by the way.”

            “ _Ah_ , sorry. Thank you. Really,” Newt said, snapping the book shut and tucking it under his arm, bundled up with the jacket. “You didn’t have to.”

            “I know,” Gottlieb said. He hesitated, and then stuck his hand out. “It will only be for a short while, Newton. Try to keep that in mind.”

            Newt took his hand, and then pulled him into a brief, awkward hug. Gottlieb allowed it, though he looked rather bemused when Newt let him go.

            “Try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone,” he said. The bemusement faded and Gottlieb nodded, smiling slightly.

            “Get going,” he said, shooing Newt towards the helicopter. Newt turned away, boarding the chopper and glancing over his shoulder only briefly as the ramp was raised. Gottlieb and Herc hurried back and watched the chopper rise, neither speaking until it was a tiny black dot fading quickly out of sight.

            “I don’t think I can forgive you for this,” Gottlieb said quietly. Herc glanced at him, and to his credit he didn’t flinch at Gottlieb’s icy expression.

            “I know.”

            He walked back inside, and Gottlieb lingered alone out on the dock, looking down from the sky to a wide patch of crushed concrete that was still stained dark blue from Scunner’s blood.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

 

            The private plane to Auckland was small, streamlined and richly furnished on the inside. Newt hated it as soon as he and Tendo were escorted from the chopper and sent aboard.

            “These things drop out of the air like flies,” he said uneasily, twisting in his seat to look around the cabin. Tendo cozied up into his seat and experimented with the adjusting buttons.

            “Oh my god, the seats are _leather._ I think they stole this thing from a politician. Regular Corps planes aren’t nearly this nice.”

            “Tendo. Private planes _crash._ ”

            “So do helicopters, but ours made it to the airport just fine.”

            Newt made a deeply unhappy noise as he cast another look around. The plane simply felt too small for him; he’d never been a real fan of flying, and the close quarters were skirting on the edge of being claustrophobic no matter how nicely furnished it was.

            “Newt, will you just relax?” Tendo asked. “These things are fast as hell. We’ll be off before you know it.”

            “Fast, nothing. It’s an _eleven hour_ flight. And then there’s the boat ride to Pitcairn,” Newt replied sourly. “They don’t have an airstrip on the main island.”

            “Not like there’s anything coming out of the ocean to disrupt the trip, right?”

            “Well…no, I guess you got me there.”

            Tendo grinned.

            “There, see? Silver lining. Nothing’s gonna eat your boat.”

            He started playing with the seat again, stretching his legs out and reclining almost all the way back.

            “If they don’t have me fly this way from now on, I’m lodging complaints.”

            Newt snorted, digging his book out from his bag and flicking through the pages. Tendo glanced over at it curiously.

            “What’s that?”

            “Oh, um…Hermann gave it to me,” Newt said, passing it over to him. “I haven’t had time to just sit and read for a long time, so…”

            Tendo opened the book carefully, noting the openly anxious look on Newt’s face as though he was afraid the man would damage it. He had always been twitchy and wound up, but lately his nerves were so obviously overworked it seemed like he would snap at any moment. It made Tendo sad to see the change in him.

            “This is some pretty heavy stuff,” he said, glancing through the book. He handed it back, and Newt took it as though it was made of glass. “I never could get into the classics. Felt like I was trying to breathe glue every time I tried to get through _Catcher in the Rye._ ”

            “I wouldn’t feel bad, I’ve tried to read _The Great Gatsby_ like…six times,” Newt said, grinning a little. “I can usually get to the part where they’re all getting drunk in the mistress’ apartment and suddenly I’m waking up an hour later face down in a puddle of drool.”

            “Sounds like most of my high school experience,” Tendo said dryly. Newt laughed. “No, seriously. Me and school did _not_ mesh well.”

            “And now you’re the nerve center of the Defense Corps,” Newt countered. “I think it worked out in the end.”

            “Nerve center? _C’mon_. Anyone could do what I do.”        

            The plane’s engine hummed to life and Newt quickly buckled himself in, looking out the window. After a moment the plane began to taxi down the runway and he quickly closed the shade.

            “Anyone could _try,_ ” he said belatedly, giving Tendo a mild look. “You’re half the reason the Shatterdome stays functioning. You’re the one holding the reins most of the time.”

            “C’mon, Newt. I’m not _that_ important.”

            The speed picked up and the engine growled, and Newt screwed his eyes shut as they lifted off. He only opened them again when it was obvious the little plane wasn’t going to explode in midair, and he leaned back in his seat with a sigh.

            “You _are_ ,” he said, picking up the conversation again. “If you weren’t around the Shatterdome would probably burn down within an hour.”

            Tendo leaned back in his own chair, smiling a little.

            “I don’t really _believe_ you, but that’s pretty nice of you to think so.”

            Newt shrugged, looking amused as he picked up his book again.

            “Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

            He started to read, becoming so absorbed he seemed to forget Tendo was there. Tendo didn’t mind too much, settling back in his chair and closing his eyes to nap. Even a full thermos of coffee couldn’t touch the bone-deep tiredness he had been carrying around for…hell, _years._ He slept when there was a spare moment to, and worked through the ever-present exhaustion the rest of the time. It had been that way for so long he couldn’t even remember a time when there wasn’t a nagging sense of wanting to drop to the floor and sleep for a week.

            He woke to the plane vibrating and jumping from turbulence. The lights in the cabin flickered disturbingly and Tendo was afraid they would go out entirely, Newt’s dour prediction about the plane’s safety coming true. They faded to a faint glow, and then snapped back on brightly. The turbulence eased a second later and Tendo breathed a small sigh of relief, daring to look over at Newt. He had mercifully dozed off and missed the whole thing, his book in danger of sliding out of slackened hands.

            Tendo took the book again and marked Newt’s page, flicking through it curiously. Here and there mentions of monsters and giant, terrible things rising from the ocean caught his eye, but for the most part he couldn’t keep his attention focused on the rambling descriptions. Of _course_ Newt would like weird, complicated stories about giant monsters. His one-track mind was astonishing.

            A soft, strained sound made him look up at Newt again. His expression was drawn and anxious even in sleep, body twitching as he dreamed. Tendo watched him and considered poking him awake. Gottlieb had never mentioned specifics about Newt’s nightmares, only that kaiju memories were involved. What did kaiju dream of? Chasing Jaegers like a dog chased cars?

            The plane shuddered, banking almost imperceptibly to the right. Tendo looked out the window and jolted to see a dense cityscape beneath them again. He must have slept through the entire flight. Newt sucked in a sudden deep breath as the plane rocked again, shifting and stretching in his seat.

            “…we there yet?”

            “Mornin’, sunshine,” Tendo said, not looking around. “I think we’re almost there.”

            The book was abruptly tugged out of his hands and he glanced over apologetically.

            “You fell asleep with it open.”

            “Reading about opium trips from hell is more relaxing than you’d think,” Newt said dryly, putting the book away. He rubbed wearily at his eyes, wincing as though trying to get rid of a headache.

            “You okay?”

            “Yeah, just kinda…I’m fine.”

            He shook his head to clear it and pulled the blind up from his window, looking down below. The plane was already beginning its descent.

            “I was expecting more sheep.”

            “Pretty sure there’s more to New Zealand than sheep, Newt.”

            “Really? Tell me _one_ other thing you know about New Zealand.”

            Tendo hesitated, biting at his thumbnail thoughtfully.

            “Um…Lord of the Rings?”

            “We’ll go with that.”

 

\--

 

            The airport was a ghost town. Tendo and Newt walked side by side through the terminal, uncomfortable with the emptiness and silence broken only by automated announcements over the PA system.

            “Is someone gonna pick us up?” Tendo asked. Newt dug through his bag for his letter.

            “ _Representatives from the Pitcairn facility will meet you at Auckland Airport and provide transport,_ ” he read, shrugging. “I guess we’ll know ‘em when we see ‘em.”

            “Shouldn’t be too hard, they’ll be the only other people here,” Tendo muttered. “Place is kinda creeping me out.”

            “No one that can afford to travel wants to,” Newt said thoughtfully. “Nowhere to go that’s worth leaving safety inland.”

            “Even now, though?”

            Newt smiled thinly.

            “Well, look what popped out of the ocean _after_ we closed the Breach.”

            The conversation effectively killed, Tendo cleared his throat awkwardly and they walked out of the airport in silence. A few taxis idled by the curb, but it was the sleek black car sitting separate from the rest that caught their attention.

            “Nobody holding a sign…”

            Newt abandoned Tendo, walking leisurely towards the car and rapping sharply on the passenger side window. It rolled down an inch and he peeked inside, flashing his PPDC ID card.

            “Super secret government transport?” he asked.

            “…you’ll be Doctor Geiszler, then.”

            Newt straightened, waving a slightly mortified Tendo over with a grin.

            “Check it out, it’s a BMW.”

            “Jesus _Christ,_ Newt,” Tendo snapped at him, hiding his face with one hand in embarrassment as the driver emerged from the car and stiffly opened the door for them. “Don’t _do_ that.”

            “Do what?”

            “Go up to random cars! _Jesus,_ are you _five?_ ”

            “I’ll have you know I’m not a day over twelve,” Newt said, so pompously Tendo snorted before he could stop himself. The car pulled away smoothly from the curb, and Newt looked out the window.

            “You realize we just climbed into a strange car with no idea where we’re going,” Tendo said dryly.

            “Yep. Thank God you’re with me to make sure I don’t do stupid shit, huh?”

            “How does Doctor Gottlieb not strangle you by the end of every day?”

            “You’d have to ask him. I’m still trying to figure it out myself.”

            Newt tapped the driver on the shoulder, and the man gave him an irritated look.

            “Where _are_ we going?”

            “The Langham Auckland. You’re expected.”

            “Well, that settles that,” Newt said, settling back in his seat and pulling his book out again. “We’re _expected._ ”

            “Yeah, but by who?”

            Newt shrugged.

            “Probably an intern or something from Pitcairn. Letter said I’d be stuck here a week before getting to the island. They’ll take over chaperoning me, you go to Los Angeles, and…everybody has fun without me.”

            “Fun, nothing. Won’t be a party until you show up and start breaking shit,” Tendo said. Newt laughed.

            “Something to look forward to, then.”


	8. Chapter 8

8.

 

            “Is it _always_ this bloody hot?”

            “Pretty much. You might be happier if you ditched the sweater vest, though.”

            Gottlieb gave Raleigh a look that could have set small children to crying.

            “You’ll have to shuck it off my dead, heatstroke-ridden body.”

            “Style over sense is more Doctor Geiszler’s department, don’t you think?”

            “I don’t think falling into a pile of laundry and hoping for the best counts as style,” Gottlieb said, though he smiled faintly. The flight to Los Angeles had been a long, bumpy affair – power failures, turbulence, a plane engine that decided the effort to taxi down the runway was too much to ask of it. By the time Mako, Raleigh, Gottlieb and a handful of mechanics and staff had arrived at the new Shatterdome, all of them were on the verge of killing something from sheer irritation.

            Los Angeles had changed a great deal since the attack from Yamarashi years prior. Shadowed by the Wall running its coastal perimeter, it had begun to look and feel horridly overcrowded, buildings stacked up and pressing together in a suffocating crush. The city’s smog stained the air an almost tangible brown, and Gottlieb scowled as he looked around.

            “I already know I’m going to be miserable here.”

            Raleigh patted his shoulder consolingly.

            “Hey. It could be worse.”

            “How so?”

            “You could be in Anchorage,” Mako said, rifling through one of her work binders as they walked. “At least Los Angeles is warm.”

            “So is the surface of the sun, but I’ve no desire to be _there_ either,” Gottlieb said wryly. “I’d rather the snow than… _this._ ”

            Los Angeles’ Shatterdome was not even remotely as impressive as the Hong Kong facility. It had been taken over and converted into a Wall construction and storage site, and the place had degraded to an almost embarrassing degree. Raleigh ran his hand along a pitted metal wall as they entered the facility and it came away rusty red.

            “We’ll get it running back to standards again soon,” Mako said confidently, repressing a smile as Raleigh tried to clean his hand off on his pants and only smeared the residue over himself.

            “Tackling one insurmountable problem at a time?” Gottlieb asked. Mako nodded, pointing the way towards the Jaeger bay floor.

            “I’ve already been handling three or four of them, actually,” she said. The bay floor wasn’t exactly buzzing with activity, but the sight of restoration where there had only been waste was a heartening sight. And it wasn’t just the Shatterdome itself that was slowly but surely being restored.

            “How did they already dredge Jaegers out from Oblivion Bay?” Gottlieb asked, staring at the three wrecks in astonishment. A gigantic wall-mounted welder was busily at work on the nearest Jaeger, spilling rivers of sparks down to the bay floor. “We only received permission to salvage a week ago.”

            “Herc namedropped the _visitor_ we had a couple times and made a pretty good argument about ‘time being of the essence’,” Raleigh said. Gottlieb stiffened.

            “I suppose mentioning bloodthirsty, soulless horrors would encourage quick action,” he muttered, a look of loathing twisting his face. He shook it off after a moment and pointed towards the spark-drenched Jaeger. “Which one is that? I’m not familiar with most of the Mark Threes.”

            “Chrome Brutus, I think,” Raleigh said, glancing at Mako. She nodded, shuffling through her paperwork again.

            “Canadian, piloted by…ah. Cousins Ilisapie Flint and Zeke Amarok. Sent to Oblivion Bay after Anchorage closed.”

            “Wasteful,” Gottlieb growled. “Utterly wasteful. I should like to take the contractor that proposed those wretched Walls and beat him until he bleated.”

            “People make bad decisions when they’re scared,” Raleigh said reasonably. Gottlieb gave him a look that bordered on scathing, though Raleigh knew better than to take it personally.

            “There is a difference between poor decisions and giving into fear-mongering, I think,” Gottlieb said. “You worked the Anchorage Wall for five years. Surely you recognized the futility of it.”

            “I had a feeling. But I didn’t really see how stupid it was until I watched Mutavore rip through the one in Sydney,” Raleigh replied, shrugging. “Part of me wanted to think the Wall might work. Wishful thinking.”

            “Hiding under a blanket from monsters does not mean they are not still there,” Mako said softly. “The Walls were the result of opportunists taking advantage of fear.”

            Caught between Gottlieb and Mako staring at him, Raleigh just held his hands up in defeat.

            “Hey, I’m not arguing with anybody. I never said I thought it was a _good_ idea.”

             “So now we are back to the only option viable for our defense,” Gottlieb said wryly, looking around the bay floor. A second Jaeger was lying prone and in pieces on several flatbeds, slowly being pieced together like a puzzle. Most of it was twisted, blackened scrap metal, old patches of dried kaiju blood staining it.

             “It’s not so bad to start from the ground up. We can make the program _better_ now,” Mako said. “There isn’t as much pressure.”

            “It may be better to act as though they are breathing down our necks,” Gottlieb muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Raleigh gave him a sidelong look.

            “They?”

            Gottlieb studied the ruined Jaeger with a distant expression, his hands tightening on the head of his cane.

            “I suppose you didn’t have an opportunity to see them during your jaunt into the Anteverse,” he said. “Nor see the scale of their forces.”

            “Oh. You mean the…” Raleigh trailed off, gesturing vaguely. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say _aliens._ “I kind of got a quick look when I was rigging Gipsy’s core.”

Mako looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged.

“It was like looking through reflections in a broken mirror,” he continued. “I couldn’t…it was like I couldn’t _grasp_ what I was looking at. It hurt me when I tried. It probably would’ve killed me if I stayed there any longer than I had to.”

            “Most likely,” Gottlieb said darkly, still staring at the wrecked Jaeger. “That place and the things that _crawl_ in it are beyond our comprehension. Best to shore up our defenses now. Face them when they come at us again with surer tactics and weapons that can handle the _filth_ they throw at us.”

            Mako’s hand on his shoulder jarred Gottlieb out of his thoughts, and he stared at her. The look of concern on her face embarrassed him; Newt’s temper was on a shorter fuse these days, but Gottlieb was too easily provoked into depressive brooding.

            “I…please, excuse me,” he said uncomfortably. “Jetlag always…always shortens my temper.”

            The three stood in silence for a moment, no one sure how to move on from the dark turn of the conversation. Gottlieb cleared his throat and gestured vaguely behind him.

            “I think I may…go inspect the new laboratory,” he said. “Miss Mori, Mister Becket.”

            He bowed his head stiffly and turned away, limping off the bay floor quickly. Raleigh watched him go.

            “I’m not sure who I should be more worried about, Newt or _him,”_ he said. Mako frowned at him. “I’m serious. I like ‘em both, but it’s like they’re a different species half the time.”

            Mako started to protest, then made a face and nodded her agreement.

            “I’ve known them a very long time,” she said as they started to walk through the bay again. “I met them when they first began working for the Corps, after the Marshall recruited them.”

            “And were they always…like that?” Raleigh asked.

            “Worse, actually,” Mako said dryly. “Doctor Geiszler used to like hiding samples in Doctor Gottlieb’s workspace when they fought.”

            “Samples. You mean _guts,_ don’t you.”

            “They stopped speaking to each other for a week after Doctor Gottlieb found intestines in his desk drawers.”

            Raleigh spluttered and tried not to laugh, crushing his hand against his mouth. Mako smiled and shrugged.

            “They have _always_ been strange,” she said. “What is going on with them right now is…a special circumstance. Once they are settled back in together and can start working again, things will start to return to normal.”

            The overhead lights dimmed and flickered in a brownout, and one of the bulbs buzzed and suddenly burned out entirely. Mako sighed as the work around them stuttered to a brief halt, only picking up again when the lights steadied. Raleigh clapped a hand on her shoulder encouragingly.

            “C’mon. Building from the ground up again, remember?” he said. “We’re gonna have hiccups for a bit.”

            Mako smiled reluctantly, though it turned genuine as Raleigh gave her a nudge, even encouraging a laugh out of her.

            “I guess I can tolerate a few hiccups here and there.”


	9. Chapter 9

9.

 

            “I don’t think this is the right place.”

            Tendo and Newt stood awkwardly in the middle of the empty hotel foyer, feeling incredibly out of place and sure they were going to be firmly escorted out at any moment.

            “The driver _said_ we were going to the Langham Auckland,” Newt said uncertainly. He scuffed the toe of his boot on the glossy marble floor, then winced and tried to fix the skid mark he’d made. “I don’t think they’d dump us at the wrong place just for the hell of it.”

            There had been no one to greet them in the lobby, and Newt’s letter had run out of instructions. He read through it for the twentieth time anyway, and then flipped it over in case he had missed something. The back remained unhelpfully blank.

            “Well, shit.”

            “Can I _help_ you, gentlemen?”          

            The concierge behind the desk was watching them hawkishly, changing to a barely-hidden look of disapproval as Newt approached. He knew he didn’t look particularly professional after nearly fourteen hours of travel; or maybe it was the tattoos that were so offensive to her. He rolled down his sleeves courteously and attempted a polite smile.

            “There’s not a reservation for Newton Geiszler or Tendo Choi by any chance, is there? Or, um…maybe something under Pitcairn or PPDC?”

            She turned away from him abruptly and busied herself with her computer. Newt looked around as she worked, frowning in distaste at the opulent surroundings. How places like this had stayed open for so long during the war he didn’t like to think about; inland was for the wealthy these days, and they were the ones that had the expendable income while everyone else scraped by on the coastlines and prayed kaiju wouldn’t make landfall on top of them.

            Two keycards were slapped smartly onto the countertop, making Newt jump. The concierge had hitched on a demure smile that didn’t quite hide her lingering disapproval.

            “Apologies for the wait, Doctor Geiszler,” she said. “Your keys, and…”

            She pushed a thick manila folder towards him. The Pan Pacific Defense Corps logo was stamped on it, and a note was paperclipped to one corner. He took the keys and folder without thanking the concierge, ignoring her insulted huff as he unfolded the note and went back to Tendo.

            “…it’s a dinner invitation,” he said, baffled. He handed Tendo the note and started flicking through the folder’s contents. “Jesus, look at this stuff. It’s all consent forms and non-disclosure contracts.”

            He paused, pulling out a sheet and going rather pale.

            “Why the hell did they give me a Do Not Resuscitate order?”

            Tendo looked up at the folder warily.

            “Well, I’m liking _this_ less and less by the second.”           

            Newt stuffed the DNR form away, looking rattled.

            “I…think I’ll look over this stuff later,” he said abruptly. He took the note from Tendo, unfolding it again and looking sour as he read it.

            “Post-apocalyptic dinner parties. You’ve _got_ to be shitting me....”

            “At least it’s not ‘til tomorrow,” Tendo said, giving the folder another uneasy glance.

            “ _Your attendance is required. Please acknowledge formal dress code and present yourself no later than 1600 hours in conference room B,”_ Newt read aloud. “Christ. They really don’t screw around up here, do they?”

            “This is the most authoritarian invitation I’ve ever seen,” Tendo said dryly. “You better pray you have something decent to wear.”

            “I own nice things,” Newt said sulkily. “I’ve been told I clean up pretty well.”

            “Doesn’t count if it’s your mom telling you that.”

            “It was my maiden aunt, thank you very much.”

            Tendo snorted, and they abandoned the lobby for the elevators. Their rooms were on the fifteenth floor, and the hallway managed to look even more ostentatious than the foyer.

            “I think the carpet’s made with gold thread…”

            “Give me cement walls and Jaeger engine fumes any day,” Tendo said. “Can’t stand this kind of stuff.”

            The lights flickered briefly and Newt paused, frowning up at the overhead lamps. Tendo, fighting with his door to accept the key card, glanced over his shoulder at him.

            “What?”

            “The lights,” Newt said. Tendo shrugged.

            “Power grids are a mess all over the place,” he said.

            “Yeah, but…”

            “This place must burn through power like crazy. Probably just the generators trying to keep up.”

            The lights snapped back to normal as though to prove Tendo’s point, and the electronic lock on his door beeped as it opened. The room carried on the running theme of luxury until it skirted the edge of bad taste, and Tendo shook his head.

            “This is ridiculous. My quarters are _half_ this size. I’ll get lost trying to find the door again.”

            “Well, pray you don’t mix up the closet and the bathroom,” Newt said dryly, peeking inside. “Alright, if I don’t get some sleep I’m gonna drop. See you tomorrow?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Tendo said. He glanced at Newt briefly. “Hey, if you…y’know. If you need anything, come and get me. Okay?”

            “I’ll be fine.”

            “Well, if you think you _aren’t_ , come get me, okay?” Tendo repeated. Newt smiled uncomfortably.

            “Sure.”

 

\--

 

           

             There was a faint, high-pitched hiss Newt couldn’t trace somewhere in his room, and it was starting to drive him crazy. He had unplugged the television, turned off all the lights, and even gotten rid of the alarm clock blinking harsh red numbers on his nightstand. The hissing persisted, an almost subliminal noise that kept him awake no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

            He thrashed in frustration in his blankets and kicked them off the bed completely, taking one of his pillows and pressing it against his face. There wasn’t much appeal in smothering himself to sleep after so many dreams involving choking or drowning, and the pillow was thrown across the room a moment later. He sat up and slid off the bed, starting to pace.

            He didn’t want to be here. He should have stayed in Hong Kong, holed up in his lab and left in peace. Hell, he should have just packed up and left entirely. Gottlieb had been perfectly willing to go with him; why the hell hadn’t he just left?

            The faint hiss felt like it was scratching up in his ears and Newt rubbed at them violently, pacing the room from one end to the other. He didn’t want to go to Pitcairn. The island was so isolated from the rest of the world it would practically be a prison.

Maybe that was the whole point.

Maybe the Marshall had decided he couldn’t trust Newt anymore, and the entire thing was a setup. Invent a reason to get rid of him, send him off to a K-Science lab and have him locked up, studied, maybe put down and dissected.

            The thoughts were irrational but Newt couldn’t seem to stop them. The hissing sound was feeding into the growing panic attack –and god _dammit,_ where was that noise coming from? He wanted to rip the light fixtures off the walls and pull out the wires, just to see if that would silence the sound.

            He paused in his pacing and stared at his door. It was a little past midnight, but Tendo had said to go get him if Newt needed anything. It was tempting, except he didn’t want someone else to look at him like he was crazy. All of them would eventually. Tendo, Herc, _all_ of them. Gottlieb was probably the only person on earth who could understand what he was going through, and he wasn’t _here._

            Newt started to pace again, rubbing at his ears and willing himself to calm down and only making it worse. His thoughts started to jumble into a stream he could barely make sense of, and sick heat prickled through him as he started to panic. He sat on the edge of his bed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands knotting in his hair.

            _quietquietquiet calm down stop silencesilencesilence_

            He wanted to hide, but there was nowhere the noise and the panic and thoughts wouldn’t follow. Newt tried to catch his breath but his heart pounded and he felt winded. He stood and went into the bathroom, and as he passed the mirror the fleeting reflection was spotted with blue flickers.

            _Not this again please I’m so tired not again_

            He hadn’t turned the lights on, but he could still see the thin, bright blue lines that cut across his face and down his throat in the mirror. He had always thought the bioluminescent designs looked like warpaint on a kaiju; Leatherback’s intricate spirals, Knifehead’s jagged stripes. Unnatural markings that stood out on their skin like brands.

            Newt blinked hard once, twice, but the hallucination refused to go away. He leaned against the sink and bowed his head, screwing his eyes shut. It wasn’t real. The jumbled thoughts in his head were his alone, no dying kaiju whispering in the back of his mind.

            And that was the problem.

He was alone in his head, and Newt realized with a sickening jolt that he didn’t know how to deal with it anymore. No Scunner, no hivemind, no Gottlieb. Everyone was gone. He looked up in the mirror and the blue marks had vanished, his reflection shadowed and vague in the dark. Heat prickled inside and out like a fever until it made him want to scream.

_Too much toomuchtoomuch waterwaterwater need cold cold pressure silence cold_

Echoes of Scunner ran through his mind and he didn’t care, blindly searching in the dark for the shower. It doubled as a deep bath, and Newt twisted violently at the handles, water splashing noisily. He climbed in still clothed when the tub filled, water sloshing over the sides and pooling on the floor.

The icy coldness was so profoundly relieving that Newt had to bite back a soft sob, the panic finally starting to ease. The sick heat that burned in his chest and settled in twisting knots in his stomach faded, and without a second thought he slid beneath the surface and braced his hands against the tub’s sides, holding himself under. The soft, insistent hissing in his ears was silenced at once, and Newt felt the last of his panic disappear. He hadn’t felt so calm in _weeks_.

His lungs started to burn after a long few moments. Breathing. Right, he needed to keep doing that. But he didn’t _want_ to. He could just keep holding his breath and see what happened.

_Drowning. Drowning’s what happens._

The thought was detached from the rest of his brain, a tiny voice of reason cutting through. He didn’t want to listen to it – to _himself –_ but there was a fairly good point being made. Newt didn’t want to drown. But maybe he could keep himself under, just a _little_ bit longer…

_No. Stop it. Stop this. I’m not crazy. I’m not doing this. Breathe, you idiot._

It was too exhausting. He didn’t want to. He wanted the cold, the water and the dark, nothing else. Nobody would care if he were gone. He was a freak, a monster, a kaiju-loving idiot who had overstepped his bounds, and all he had to do to make it stop was just _stay under-_

_No. No! What the hell is **wrong** with me? **Breathe** , you fucking idiot!_

Newt’s hands slipped on the tub’s sides and he broke through the surface with a gasp, coughing and spitting out water. The almost intoxicated calm was gone and he felt wrung out, clinging to the side of the tub and sucking in deep breaths.

“Oooh, what the hell,” he muttered, resting his head on the tub’s edge. “What the _hell_.”

            Newt climbed out and threw a towel around himself, trying to warm up again. He changed out of his soaking clothing, drying himself off as best he could. He had no idea what time it was; had he been in the tub for minutes, or hours? He couldn’t tell. Hell, maybe it had only been a few seconds.

            Balling up the towel and throwing it on the floor, Newt left his room and crossed the hall to Tendo’s door. He knocked sharply, and it opened after a moment. Tendo didn’t comment on Newt’s wet hair or exhausted expression, simply standing aside so he could come in.

            “Thanks,” Newt said, voice barely above a whisper.

            “Any time.”


	10. Chapter 10

10.

 

            Newt was very quiet and subdued the next day, his expression strained. He sat silently and read in Tendo’s room on the couch, seemingly unwilling to isolate himself in his own. Tendo didn’t mind it; at least he didn’t have to worry about going across the hall and checking in on him every five minutes.

He _had_ gone in to get Newt’s book for him, however – and seeing the brimming bathtub and general disarray of the room had only added fuel to his growing anxiety. The thought of having to leave at the end of the week was becoming more and more difficult to accept; he had tried to contact Herc that morning to beg off more time, but the Marshall was proving impossible to get ahold of.

            “So I was thinking I might go along with you to that dinner tonight,” he said casually. Newt glanced up from his book.

            “I don’t think I can just bring you along. You might get in trouble.”

            Tendo shrugged.

“What are they gonna do, throw me out?”

            “Firing squad doesn’t seem like it’d be out of the question.”

            “I think you’re exaggerating,” Tendo said dryly. Newt gave a humorless snort.

            “I was reviewing all that paperwork last night. They love regulations and rules more than Hermann does.”

            “That why they gave you a DNR slip?”

            Newt grinned and there was a shade of amusement in it.

            “Probably. Just covering all their bases in case I blow something up.”

            “You? Causing incredible amounts of property damage? _Surely_ you joke, sir.”

            Tendo ducked and laughed as Newt threw one of the couch pillows at him. It sailed over him and Newt went back to his book with a disappointed sigh, though some of the strain had visibly vanished from his face.

            “Is it gonna bug you if I watch TV?”

            “Hn? No, go ahead.”

            Tendo hunted the room for the remote, glancing over his shoulder at Newt.

            “Hey…why was all the stuff unplugged in your room?”

            “Oh. There’s…there’s a weird noise in there. In here too, actually,” Newt said absently. He was quiet for a second, then closed his book and looked over at Tendo. “You don’t hear it?”

            “No. What’s it sound like?”

            “Buzzing. Or…” Newt shook his head. “A really thin whine, like a high frequency. It was…keeping me awake. “

            He sounded incredibly uncomfortable, and Tendo knew to let the subject drop. He found the remote and clicked the television on, hunting for a sports station.

            “They started up baseball again,” he said, sitting beside Newt on the couch.

            “Oh?”

            “Yep. Nobody’s got any money for game tickets and the team lineups are _shit,_ but…baseball,” Tendo said enthusiastically. “You ever been to a game?”

            Newt laughed incredulously.

            “Are you _kidding?_ ”

            “Figured. Well, I’m gonna rectify that,” Tendo said. “Take your pick, Angels or Dodgers. I’m taking you to a game.”

            “What? No, absolutely not,” Newt said, giving a mock shudder. “That means going outside. _Sunlight._ I’m built for dark, enclosed spaces.”

            “So are cockroaches. I think you can aspire to something a bit better.”

            Newt made an arrogant sound, going back to his book.

            “I wouldn’t mind being radiation-resistant and able to survive without my head for a month. Don’t diss cockroaches dude, they’re gonna to inherit the earth one way or another.”

            “You are _such_ a ray of sunshine,” Tendo said, and Newt laughed slightly. The TV flickered, the picture jumping and the sound a few seconds out of synch as Tendo flipped to BBC. A news piece was already playing, showing a horde of protestors screaming defiance at the cameras. Tendo squinted at the screen for a second in confusion at the blurred image, then recoiled.

            “Jesus, what is _wrong_ with these people?”

            Newt looked up curiously. His lip curled and he shook his head, setting his book aside.

“Nice to see there’s weirder people than _me_ in the world. Turn it up?”

“ _-protests over the Pan Pacific Defense Corp’s recent revitalization isn’t just coming from political and financial corners, but religious as well. The infamous Church of the Breach, also known as the BuenaKai, have taken to the streets to call for the PPDC’s immediate disbanding,”_ the newscaster was saying. Tendo made a disgusted sound and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Sorry we saved the world for you,” Tendo muttered sourly. “Don’t know _what_ we were thinking.”

“ _Representatives from within the Church’s hierarchy claim that Operation Pitfall was an act of heresy, and are demanding justice for war crimes - including what the Church terms ‘murder of Heavenly emissaries’,_ ” the anchor continued. Clips of a BuenaKai protest blared on the screen, a man with scales and stylized eyes tattooed over his face roaring at a makeshift pulpit and stirring the crowd below him into frenzy. “ _PPDC representatives could not be reached for comments regarding the Church’s statements._ ”

“Heavenly…they mean the kaiju, don’t they?” Tendo asked. Newt nodded.

“They think they’re angels,” he said. “There’s a pretty big following in Hong Kong, I guess. They went in and turned Reckoner’s skull into a temple.”

Tendo growled in disgust, flipping the channel again.

“I get faith in wartime,” he said. “But worshiping those things? Come _on._ ”

“People think _I_ worship ‘em,” Newt said mildly, going back to his book. “And really, what’s the difference between something incomprehensible you _can’t_ see and something you _can?”_

“Mostly the toxic glowstick blood, I think,” Tendo said dryly. “God didn’t sit back on the fifth day and say, _‘yeah, I’m gonna make a giant lizard with an axe for a face’. ”_

Newt started laughing.

“Are you sure about that? You’re _perfectly okay_ with the idea that God made things like anglerfish? They’re like proto-kaiju.”

“You know what? I’m totally fine if God wants to make screwed-up shit like that to throw in the ocean. It _stays there._ Anglerfish are _small._ They don’t come up out of the water and decide to start smashing shit,” Tendo said. Newt laughed harder, struggling to get a breath in. “Well, it’s true!”

“Until all the kaiju blood in the water starts mutating stuff. You have a backup plan in case giant anglerfish start assaulting the coastlines?”

“Jaegers,” Tendo said mildly. “Jaegers and praying.”

“Praying being the foolproof last resort?”

Tendo tapped at his rosary.

“Always has been.”

Newt sobered a little, eyeing the rosary and the crucifix tattoo on Tendo’s hand.

“Why _do_ you wear that thing?”

Tendo shrugged, amused at the genuine curiosity in Newt’s tone.

“Just in case, man. Everything comes apart around you, makes you want to believe there’s still something out there that cares enough to listen.”

“You think something really does?”

Tendo twisted the rosary loosely around his wrist. The wooden beads were smooth to the touch, worn down over the years.

“Never hurts to think so. Every deployment, I asked for everybody to come home again. I asked that you be okay after everything with Scunner.”

Newt jolted at that, looking at Tendo in confusion.

“You prayed for _me?”_

“Well, yeah. I watched how Scunner _died_. Of course I prayed. I was scared shitless.”

Tendo had never seen Newt look so bewildered before. Deer caught in headlights handled themselves more gracefully.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my _friend?_ Friends worry about each other. It’s kind of a thing they do.”

The bewilderment grew until Tendo was certain he’d broken something in Newt’s head.

“We’re friends?” he asked. Tendo stared at him incredulously.

“Newt, for Chrissakes. I’ve known you for ten years.”

“Exactly. You’ve known me for _ten years_. We’re _friends?”_

“Oh my _God_ ,” Tendo sighed. “Yes. We are.”

Newt smiled at that, sitting back in the couch.

“That’s…that’s cool,” he said quietly, picking up his book again and flipping to his page. “That’s good to know.”

 

 

\--

 

            “That isn’t formalwear and you know it.”

            Newt looked down at himself speculatively. He’d polished his boots, found a clean shirt, and the old splotches of kaiju blood were barely visible on his pants. He shrugged in a show of grand indifference.

            “This is as formal as I get. Told you I clean up well.”

            “You look like Sid Vicious getting dressed up for a court hearing,” Tendo muttered. Newt grinned.

            “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

            The hotel was as empty as the airport had been, but there was a muffled sound of conversation echoing down the hall as they walked. A security guard in a crisp suit stood silently in front of a door towards the end of the corridor, and he glared icily down at them both. Newt was surprised to find himself completely unimpressed with the aggression.

            “Doctor Newton Geiszler,” he said. The guard glanced at Tendo. “And guest. Scoot over.”

            The guard stepped aside and Newt pushed the door open, sweeping inside like he owned the place. Tendo trailed behind him and tried not to laugh.

            “Feeling confident?”

            “Yep,” Newt said, sounding cheerful. “Haven’t gone crazy yet and there’s free food. Feelin’ pretty good for a change.”

            The room was packed with people, and most of them turned to look at Newt as he stepped inside. His confidence wavered dangerously but Tendo pushed him forward.

            “Don’t be scared of ‘em,” he said.

            “Who says I’m scared?” Newt whispered back. Conversation resumed, though a few curious stares still pointed his way. Newt ducked his head and instinctively headed towards the back of the room. Tendo followed close behind.

            “Look, we don’t have to stay too long, okay?” he said. “We make an appearance, talk to some people, get stuff sorted out, we leave. Everybody wins.”

            Newt had gone stock-still, and Tendo shook his shoulder worriedly.

            “You okay?”

            “That is the biggest cake I’ve ever seen,” Newt said, awestricken. There was a small line milling around the buffet table, and the cake stood out like a centerpiece. “I haven’t seen something like that in _years._ ”

            “Newt. Newt, _please._ Don’t eat any. I can’t handle you on a sugar high.”

            “I’m sorry. I _have to.”_

“Jesus, it’s like watching a piranha,” Tendo muttered to himself, shaking his head. A tap on his shoulder made him turn, and he found himself looking at a strangely familiar face, though he couldn’t place where he knew it from.

            “Yes, ma’am?” he asked. The woman was slim, tall and blonde, and Tendo realized his gaze was lingering on her a little too long to be polite. She knew it, too; her smile was vaguely amused as he coughed and looked down.

            “I saw you come in with Newton Geiszler,” she said. “I was hoping to speak with him?”

            Tendo sighed, pointing towards the buffet table.

            “Once he’s done sacking the desserts I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to talk with you.”

            Newt came back shoveling cake into his mouth, inattentive to anything else around him. Tendo resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands – people were staring again.

            “This is _real_ chocolate,” Newt said thickly, pushing a second plate into Tendo’s hands. He hadn’t noticed the woman. “I think they killed people to get this.”

            “Doctor Geiszler,” Tendo said firmly, nudging Newt hard with an elbow. “This is…ah, I’m sorry miss, what was your name?”

            “Caitlin Lightcap.”

            Newt made an odd choking sound and dropped his plate, turning so starkly grey Tendo was afraid he’d fall to the floor. Lightcap stared at him, startled.

            “Oh, shit,” he said faintly. “First impressions. _You_. Oh god. Oh god, _that’s_ what he meant.”

            “Are you alright?” Lightcap asked. Newt looked like he wanted to crawl into a corner and die.

            “Fine,” he said. His voice cracked on the word, and he cleared his throat. “Fine. I’m…you’re…”

            Tendo stooped down to clean up Newt’s plate and stepped back. Newt shot him a look pleading with him not to go.

            “I’ll be nearby if you need me,” Tendo said. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

            “Nononono come _back_ ,” Newt hissed under his breath. Lightcap was still watching him, and he let out an extremely awkward laugh.

            “Well,” he said. “You’re…you’re Caitlin Lightcap.”

            “I am.”

            “This is horrifying,” Newt said, mildly hysterical. “You must think I’m an idiot. This is a _really bad_ first impression, holy shi...I should stop swearing. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

            “Well, it’s definitely not the kind of response I’m used to getting from people, if I’m honest,” Lightcap said, not unkindly. She gestured towards an isolated corner of the room. “Care to start over?”

            “That’d be…that’d be good, I think.”

            The stares around him were more discreet as Lightcap half-steered Newt to the corner, sitting him down carefully before he collapsed in on himself. He had gone from sickly grey to a humiliated flush, trying very hard not to shrink when Lightcap looked at him.

            “Hey, it’s really okay,” Lightcap said. “We’ll just start over. I’m Doctor Caitlin Lightcap. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            She held out her hand, and Newt shook it as firmly as he could.

            “Doctor Newton Geiszler,” he said, schooling his voice to calm. “I’ve admired your work for years. I’m honored that you even know my _name_.”

            Lightcap smiled.

            “Hard to miss it, these days. You’ve made a lot of noise the past few years. The last few months especially.”

            “Yeah, it’s been…busy,” Newt said awkwardly. “Y’know. Helping close the Breach, being stalked by kaiju…”

            “I’ve been reading every report I could get my hands on about that,” Lightcap said. “I’ve gone over yours several times. Your experiences with the hivemind Drift were very interesting.”

            “Not exactly how I’d term it,” Newt said before he could stop himself. Lightcap gave him a mild look as he flushed all over again in embarrassment. “Sorry. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, I’m kind of fried.”

            “Not a problem,” she said. “So, I do have to imagine you’re wondering why you’re here.”

            Newt cast a look around. There were a lot of stiff-looking older men and women in suits and starched dresses who were obviously wishing they were somewhere else, and a few military types mixed in for good measure.

            “It _has_ crossed my mind once or twice,” he said. “They’re not Corp, are they?”

            “No,” Lightcap said. “Friends in high places we have to appease. That’s why I invited you here, actually.”

            Newt stared at her blankly.

            “You want _me_ to talk to these people?” he asked. “What about?”

            “I’ll be doing the talking. But it hinges on your final decision,” Lightcap said. Newt felt a knot of apprehension form in his gut.

            “Decision?”

            Lightcap looked at him frankly. He felt like she was studying him, and the apprehension grew stronger.

            “Pitcairn Island is the center for Kaiju Science studies,” she said finally. “Any big projects regarding kaiju countermeasures run through that facility first. Including a lot of _your_ work. Your reverse engineering is something of a legend there.”

            Newt couldn’t muster the effort to look flattered, his apprehension starting to turn into a cold, creeping anxiety. Lightcap sighed slightly at his expression.

            “After last month’s incident, pressure’s been mounting all over the Corp to develop new countermeasures,” she continued. “Improvements to Jaeger design, anti-kaiju weapons, everything’s being updated.”

            “You’re not a kaiju specialist,” Newt said. “You’ve always focused on mechanics and the Pons system. Why are you…?”

            “Because they needed me to adapt the system for a specific project,” Lightcap said. “The Pons is my brainchild. I’m one half of this. You’re the other.”

            “What do you _want_ from me?” Newt asked.

            “You Drifted with kaiju twice through a neural bridge,” Lightcap said softly. “You know how to navigate the hivemind.”

            “I was sucked into it,” Newt said, shaking his head quickly. “I was _trapped_ in it. Wandering isn’t navigating.”

            Lightcap held her hand up to quiet him, and he grit his teeth together painfully.

            “We need to understand our enemy better,” she said. “You’ve gotten into their heads. You know them better than any of us.”

            “Don’t ask me this,” Newt said, the panic starting to edge in his voice. “Please.”

            “I _have_ to,” Lightcap said. “You’re the only one who can do this. Anyone else, it would be too much. You’ve experienced it before, you could cope with it.”

            “I’m holding onto my sanity by my fingernails,” Newt said harshly. “Don’t talk to me about _coping.”_

Lightcap gave him a searching look.

            “I’m not ordering you to do this,” she said. “I’m _asking_ you. You do have a choice here, but you need to understand. Research could be set back by years if you refuse.”

            Newt felt his eyes burn and he had to look away, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands; people were still looking at him from time to time, and he didn’t feel like humiliating himself more than necessary.

            “This isn’t a choice,” he said bitterly. “You know it isn’t.”

            “It is,” Lightcap said. “You can walk away. But the consequences could be terrible if you do.”

            “Stop trying to _guilt_ me!” Newt hissed at her, trying not to bare his teeth. She saw something in his face and drew back slightly, and he shook himself, trying to calm down. “I’m…ah, _fuck.”_

They sat in silence for a few long moments. Newt rubbed at his eyes tiredly, sitting back in his chair.

            “Is it Scunner’s?”

            “No. It degraded too quickly. We have a lot of samples from it, but no parts of its brain.”

            Well. That was a relief, at least. Newt took off his glasses and polished them with his shirttail, staring hard at the floor. The panic was a burning coal deep in his chest, making every breath painful. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hide, and sleep, and forget the PPDC and kaiju and Jaegers and every other damned thing that had absorbed him for ten years.

            He wanted to talk to Gottlieb so badly it hurt.

            “All those contracts and forms,” he said. “In case something bad happens to me, right?”

            “Headquarters likes to make sure its bases are covered,” Lightcap said. Newt laughed humorlessly.

            “Good idea with the Do Not Resuscitate order. If I burn out, no one’ll have to worry about mopping me up afterwards.”

            Lightcap said nothing. Newt leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its two back legs and staring up at the ceiling. It was a bad idea. It was a bad proposal, an idiotic project. He could refuse, walk away and never look back. No one would fault him.

            He closed his eyes and he could see the hellish light of the Anteverse. He could hear thin, squealing voices and the clicking of chitinous hands, weaving slaves together piece by piece to send through the Breach. How long before the world cracked open again? What would they send the next time they gained a foothold?

            They were merciless. They would never stop.

            He should walk away. He _knew_ he should.

            Newt eased his chair back down to the floor, looking at Lightcap again. He was unsurprised to feel a few tears streaking thinly down his face, and she didn’t comment on them. He drew in a deep breath and felt like he was drowning all over again.

            “I’ll do it.”


	11. Chapter 11

11.

 

 

            “God _dammit!”_

Mako paused outside the laboratory door, uncertain whether she wanted to go in or not. Gottlieb had been on a shorter fuse than normal for a few days now, and as much as she _did_ like him, it was wearing on her. She had her own worries and stresses at the moment, and willingly dealing with the increasingly irritable man was low on her list of priorities. She peered inside, trying to scope out the newest drama.

            Gottlieb had broken his computer open and was apparently attempting to rewire it, and gauging by the faint odor of burnt plastic and a fine curl of smoke all he had done was hurt himself. Mako sighed, knocking on the doorframe.

            “Doctor Gottlieb?”

            Gottlieb looked up at once, snatching his hands away from the console.

            “Come in, my dear,” he said wearily. “I hope you weren’t subjected to my language. My apologies.”

            “I think I missed the best parts of it,” Mako said easily, giving the computer a glance. “Trouble?”

            “I was in the middle of configuring the AI algorithm you asked me for,” Gottlieb said bitterly. “And it died on me. _Three times._ I don’t know about you, but these wretched power surges are becoming _incredibly_ trying.”

            “We’re still working to fix it,” Mako sighed. The generators seemed sound enough, but apparently rolling brownouts were becoming a trend all through Los Angeles with infuriating frequency. The Shatterdome was not immune to the inconvenience.

            “Better to just write everything out by hand,” Gottlieb muttered, shifting through a tall pile of papers. “The work will be done at the same speed, the way the blasted thing keeps blinking off.”

            Mako stared at the papers.

            “Are you…did you _actually_ write out the program?”

            “Merely a brief sketch, a few hours' work at most. I’ll transcribe it as soon as I can.”

            Mako picked up several of the loose papers. Row after row of numbers and bits of programming language flowed across them in a neat hand. Gottlieb’s gift for numbers was something she constantly underestimated; the work done in hours would have taken two people days to do. She looked over at him, admiring.

            “Thank you, Doctor Gottlieb.”

            He smiled slightly, quietly pleased with her appreciation.

            “Think nothing of it, Miss Mori. Was there something you needed?”

            Mako replaced the papers carefully on the desk, gesturing for Gottlieb to follow.

            “Raleigh and I are going to be testing out Chrome Brutus’ Pons system. We need you in the LOCCENT to monitor.”

            “Already?” Gottlieb asked in surprise, pushing himself up from the desk and grasping for his cane. It clattered to the floor and he sighed, ducking under the desk to retrieve it. “Exactly how intact _was_ that Jaeger?”

            “About twenty-five percent functionality,” Mako said, feeding a wire back into the computer. It sparked and she quickly withdrew her hand. “I’ve had rotating crews working on her since before we arrived. Another two weeks and we should have her walking again.”

            Gottlieb thumped his head against the desk’s edge and bit back a curse as he straightened, rubbing at the sore spot as he heaved himself up off the chair.

            “Your penchant for working gracefully under pressure is enviable,” he said dryly as they left the lab. “I’ve done nothing but go through two computers and lose my files, backups and all.”

            The lights flickered sullenly and Gottlieb gave an incredibly irritated huff, staring up at them. He rubbed vehemently at one ear, then the other.

            “To say nothing of that blasted whining! I would give my _eyeteeth_ to stop that noise.”

            Mako gave him a puzzled glance.

            “Whining?”

            “You don’t hear it?” he asked. She shook her head, and he sighed heavily. “Of course not. It’s abominable. Like a swarm of mosquitoes buzzing in the ears. I’m surprised it’s not keeping you awake, I haven’t had a decent night’s rest since we got here.”

            “How much of it is just from overworking yourself?” Mako asked cannily. Gottlieb huffed again, though there was no offense in it.

            “Only a quarter’s worth, I think. The rest is borderline heatstroke and concern for-”

            He cut himself off, biting at his lip. Mako didn’t press the subject, though the expression Gottlieb tried to hide didn’t escape her. He hadn’t discussed Newt or the strain of his absence with anyone, but there were times when it showed no matter how hard he tried to pretend it didn’t bother him.

            “Shouldn’t you be suiting up for the test?” he asked after a moment, grasping for a new subject.

            “Yes. I just thought I’d walk with you for a moment. You have been isolating yourself a great deal lately.”

            Gottlieb halted, looking amused.

            “I’m fine, my dear,” he said. “I’ve no need for chaperoning.”

            “It’s not being a chaperone,” Mako replied. “Just being friends.”

            Gottlieb laughed slightly, giving an apologetic wave of his hand.

            “Of course. You must excuse me, my manners aren’t what they once were.”

            “I think you’re right,” Mako said lightly as they started to walk again. “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ heard you swear before.”

            “You missed the more… _colorful_ invectives,” Gottlieb said. “That wretched thing shocked me like a cattle prod. The sooner we sort out this mess with the generators, the better. I hope it doesn’t interfere with the tests.”

            “Chrome is analog. Nothing to worry about on that front, at least.”

            “Analog, and several years out of date compared to Gipsy Danger’s restructuring,” Gottlieb said. “Are you quite certain she’s ready to be tested? I’d hate for you and Mister Becket to lobotomize yourselves, we’d be put behind schedule terribly.”

            Mako gave Gottlieb a look, brows raised.

            “Did you just make a _joke?_ ”

            Gottlieb smiled faintly.

            “Like I said. My manners have become rather _tarnished_ as of late.”

            The LOCCENT felt disorganized and frenzied without Tendo’s iron discipline at the helm. Gottlieb pushed through the swarm of people and drew up the monitoring screens, waving Mako off as she headed to the prep room. The Shatterdomes had a universal layout; LOCCENT as the nerve center looking out onto the Jaeger bay, maintenance crews stationed at every Jaeger post, all of it was meant to convey a sense of stability and consistency no matter where a Corps member was deployed. Gottlieb sat at the console and closed his eyes, and could easily imagine himself back in Hong Kong, Anchorage, a dozen different places he had been stationed over the years.

            The thin, insect-like whine buzzed on, disrupting his thoughts. He opened his eyes and scowled heavily, rubbing at his ears again as though trying to dispel the noise. He had noticed it from the first day and hadn’t thought much about it, but the less sleep he got the more it irritated him. Give him another week with restless nights and the noise and he would probably just start wearing earplugs twenty-four hours a day.

            The console buzzed and Gottlieb flicked the vid-call switch. Raleigh was already in the Jaeger, fussing with his harness arm.

            “ _How’s everything looking up there, Doctor?_ ”

            Gottlieb put his reading glasses on, squinting at diagnostic readouts.

            “Power core is online and holding within acceptable levels,” he said. “No excessive radiation, so you needn’t worry about mutations after leaving the Conn-Pod.”

            Raleigh gave him an odd look.

            “ _Was that a-?”_

“Joke? Yes, they seem to be slipping out rather frequently today,” Gottlieb said wryly. “Everything looks stable from here, Mister Becket. Ready whenever you are.”

            _“Kinda freaking me out with how casual you’re sounding these days,_ ” Raleigh said. _“More used to you sounding like you’re reading off words from the dictionary._ ”

            “I could certainly throw in bigger adjectives if that makes you feel better.”

            “ _I’d appreciate that. Didn’t know what I was missing ‘til I knew how to drop stuff like ‘elucidate’ into conversation.”_

            Gottlieb found himself grinning, and shook his head in mock disapproval.

            “You only get the privilege of using big words if you know what they mean,” he said. “Care to define _elucidate?_ ”

            “ _Sorry, didn’t catch that. You’re breaking up,_ ” Raleigh said, putting his helmet on and turning away from the screen. Mako had entered the Conn-Pod and was already snapping herself onto her harness, frowning at how loosely her feet buckled onto the walker platforms.

            “Everything alright on your side, Miss Mori?”

            _“Just another thing to add to the list of issues to fix,_ ” Mako sighed. “ _It’s only up to two hundred things, there’s room for another problem.”_

Secured onto the harness arms, Mako and Raleigh each picked up the outdated handheld rings that controlled Chrome Brutus’ arms. The rings had long since been replaced with digital interfaces, but no Jaegers with such upgrades had survived. Gottlieb thought with a pang of remorse for the lost technology – Jaegers like Striker Eureka and Crimson Typhoon hadn’t just been weapons, they had been works of art. But Striker was gone, reduced to atoms at the bottom of the sea, and Crimson was still being pieced back together.

            A sudden chilling thought shook Gottlieb, and he leaned forward.

            “Chrome Brutus has functional escape pods, yes?”

            _“They still have to be replaced,_ ” Mako said. “ _But there’s nothing wrong with the ejection system. Why?_ ”

            “Just double-checking,” Gottlieb said softly. He had watched Leatherback hold Cherno Alpha beneath the water until its core exploded; he had no desire to feel that kind of cold, helpless horror again. The credo of ‘win or die’ held little appeal to him.

              _“Okay, all systems are green,_ ” Raleigh said. “ _We’re ready._ ”

            Gottlieb switched to another screen, drawing up active scans of Raleigh and Mako’s brains and vital signs. His hand hovered over the switch and he looked back to the Conn-Pod vid screen.

            “Initiating neural handshake,” he said. “I might suggest bracing yourselves.”

            He flipped the switch. The Jaeger AI booted up, the atonal female voice initiating countdown.

            “ _Neural handshake activated. Preparing bridge in five, four, three, two…one.”_

The lights dulled in yet another brownout as soon as the Pons activated, and Gottlieb looked around in reflexive panic. The video feed from within the Conn-Pod gave an unhelpful flicker, and for a moment all Gottlieb could see were Mako and Raleigh’s silhouettes swaying hard against their harnesses.

            “Are you alright?” he asked sharply. There was no reply for a moment and his heart jumped into his throat. “ _Answer_ me!”

            _“-ral handshake is stable,_ ” Raleigh said, the radio cutting back in mid-word. “ _Take it easy Doctor, we’re fine. Analog, remember?”_

            “I’ll ‘take it easy’ when I’m dead,” Gottlieb said shortly, though he sat back in relief. “Don’t…don’t frighten me like that.”

            The unsteady jumping of his computer screen ceased, and Gottlieb tried to ignore the curious stares he was getting from the crew around him. He looked to the Pons readout, his panic subsiding as the lights steadied.

            “ _It’s okay, Doctor. Power surge isn’t gonna touch us,”_ Raleigh said. “ _How’s it looking?”_  
            “Bond is stable,” Gottlieb said. The conjoined brainwaves had formed a new entity within the Jaeger’s computer, and he studied it with fascination. “You and Miss Mori remain the very picture of compatibility.”

            Raleigh and Mako shared the same grin, lifting their hands and activating the control rings. Chrome Brutus tried to respond to the movement, but its arms raised slowly and with piercing, rusty shrieks.

            _“Feels like we’re moving through cement,_ ” Mako said. “ _This should have been addressed from the start.”_

“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Gottlieb said absently, watching the Pons feed. The effort to move the Jaeger showed in the pilots’ vital signs, increased heart rates beating in perfect synch. “Just another thing to add to your list, Miss Mori.”

            The Jaeger’s arms lowered quicker than they had raised, and the metallic shriek set Gottlieb’s teeth on edge. He was going to have a headache before the day was done, he could already tell.

            “Alright,” he said. “Initiate testing for weapon activation…”

 

 

\--

 

            The test lasted almost two hours, and both Mako and Raleigh were exhausted by the time they dragged themselves out of the Jaeger. Gottlieb had seen them off to the prep room for disarmoring and one last briefing for his report, and he soon found himself isolated in the lab again, writing it out by hand rather than struggle with his computer.

            It was too quiet for his liking. He glanced over towards the left side of the room; none of Newt’s materials or samples had arrived from Hong Kong yet, and they wouldn’t for some time. The lab had the musty smell of disused space and undisturbed air, and Gottlieb found himself missing the cutting odor of ammonia and preservatives.

            Well, no. That wasn’t right. The odors were nauseating after awhile. He was just missing the idiot that couldn’t keep his half of the room clean and constantly created biohazards everywhere.  

            Gottlieb sighed bitterly and stared down at his report, then pushed it away. It would have to wait; he couldn’t seem to summon the willpower to work. He pulled a blank piece of paper towards him instead and started to doodle absently, numbers and calculations framing wobbly stick figure Jaegers and kaiju. He had started to draw a battle between Gipsy Danger and a kaiju that looked rather like a jellyfish when the vid-call console rang.

            “Yes?” he said boredly, answering it without looking at the screen. “What is it?”

            _“Hermann, thank God.”_

Gottlieb’s head whipped around so quickly he cricked his neck.

            “Tendo?”

            “ _I’ve been trying to get ahold of Marshall Hansen all day,”_ Tendo said. The video was disabled, and his voice was edged with static over the line. “ _Where the hell is he?”_  
            “In London,” Gottlieb said. “He had to meet with…what is it? What’s happened?”

            _“You’ve got to get me through to Hansen, okay? I can’t…this is bad, Hermann. They’re gonna make me leave him. I can’t.”_

“What _happened?_ ” Gottlieb repeated sharply, voice raising.

            “ _They’re making him do it again. He’s already agreed. They’re leaving in two days and they’re refusing to-”_

“He’s going to do _what?”_

Tendo’s end went deadly silent for a long moment. Gottlieb was clutching the sides of his console, staring wide-eyed into the screen.

            “ _Hermann,_ ” Tendo said desperately. “ _They’re gonna make him Drift again. He **agreed** to it. What do I do? I can’t stop him, he won’t listen to anything I say. What the hell do I do?”_

Horror spread through Gottlieb like a sickness. Agreed? Newt had _agreed?_

 _“_ I don’t know,” he said faintly. He should never have let Newt out of his sight. He wasn’t sound enough to make any kind of decisions, and now…and now…

  “I’ll speak with Marshall Hansen,” he said tersely. “Delay it as much as you can. I’ll…I’ll try to fix this.”

“ _Work fast,”_ Tendo said. “ _I don’t think he realizes what he’s done.”_

The call ended, leaving Gottlieb to stare at a blank screen. His eyes began to burn and he choked on a stream of curses all struggling to come out at once. Of course Newt had realized what he’d done. He wasn’t stupid.

What he apparently was, to Gottlieb’s terror, was suicidal.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

 

            London and Herc did not agree with each other. It had been cold and rainy since he arrived, and after dealing with Hong Kong’s monsoon-like weather for weeks on end he was ready to scream for want of a single clear day. Throw in the gut-wrenching episode of turbulence he’d had on the flight over, and it had set the miserable tone for the trip. He had piloted Striker Eureka for years, gone through unimaginably grueling combat, and still the feeling of the plane rocking and the sound of the engine struggling had scared the shit out of him. At least Jaegers kept their feet on the ground.

            He’d been carted around the city all day, taken from the airport straight to one of many long, wearying meetings. He’d met important people, said important things, and damn it all if he could remember half of what had happened by the time he got to his hotel. Politicians and corporate reps all blurred together into a bureaucratic mess after awhile. He did have the feeling most of the meetings had gone well, at least – a short press conference had ended on a sour note when the trash media started prying into personal topics, and Herc knew he shouldn’t have answered as angrily and sarcastically as he had. But for the most part, he thought he’d done fairly well.

            Check-in was as blurry as the rest of the day, and by the time Herc stepped off the elevator he was ready to drop to the floor. A faint buzzing noise caught his ear and made him hesitate, reminding him of the noise on the plane before turbulence had nearly knocked it from the air.  

The lights had all but gone out when Herc found his room. The electronic lock was dead, and Herc rattled and pulled at the doorknob until he felt ready to rip it off entirely and throw it down the hall. The struggling hum of the generators filled the hall like static and a bulb overheated and shattered as the power kicked back on, making Herc jump. He looked up at the overhead lights uncomfortably as they settled; Hong Kong he could understand having power issues with the strain on the grids, but London’s facilities were usually stable even under constant pull.

            He shook his head, dismissing it. He had troubles enough without adding more to his plate. He swiped his keycard through the lock again, and it opened with a thin beep. Finally, a chance to rest, shower, and maybe pray to die in his sleep before having to start up the cycle of meetings and interviews again tomorrow.

            The door swung open before he could even turn the knob, and a woman with a shaven head in a tight dress and long, fur-lined leather coat greeted him. Herc stared at her blankly. There was a woman. Just kind of… _standing_ there. And looking like she wanted to laugh at him for the sheer idiotic look he was sure was on his face.

            “I’m…I’m sorry. What? Have we met?”

            The woman smiled with demure mockery.

            “Come in, Marshall Hansen,” she said, stepping aside. “You’re expected.”

            “Get out of my room before I call security,” Herc said, still too baffled to be angry. “Why the hell are you in here? Who _are_ you?”

            “Come inside and you’ll know,” she replied smoothly. “Don’t worry. You’re not in any danger.”

            “Miss, no offense, but I think I could hold my own with you.”

            “None taken. But perhaps you underestimate what you don’t understand,” she said. “That applies to a lot of your decisions, doesn’t it?”

            Something about her words jarred Herc, like a private conversation half-remembered. He gave her a searching look, and then relented and went inside.

            “Who are you?” he asked her again.

            “She’s my _lieutenant_ , if you wanna get technical.”

            The air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke and the television chattered softly in the background. Herc stared at the man looking out the window, hands braced on his hips as though observing a new land waiting to be conquered.

            “Why are _you_ here _?_ ”

            “Evening, Marshall.”

            “How the hell are you not dead by now, you cockroach?”

            Hannibal Chau looked over his shoulder at the Marshall. A slow grin spread across his face like a rictus.

            “Been missing me?”

            “I need a drink before I get into _any_ kind of conversation with you,” Herc muttered, tossing his briefcase aside and kicking the mini-fridge open, grabbing at the first nip bottle he could find. Chau watched him in cold amusement, settling down into the armchair by the TV. The woman was sitting at the foot of the bed flipping through one of Herc’s folders.

            “Put that down!”

            “It’s only your travel manifest,” she replied mildly. “Nothing top secret.”

            Herc ripped the folder away from her and threw it across the room in a spasm of anger, feeling like an idiot as soon as it flew free of his hand. Papers flew everywhere, including a few that landed forlornly at his feet.

            “Long day?” Chau asked. “Heard that tabloid rat giving you shit earlier, surprised you didn’t pop ‘im one. Got a good handle on that Hansen temper, huh? Self-control doesn’t seem to run very strong in your family.”

            The seal cracked off the bottle sharply and Herc took a long swig before even looking at Chau.

            “You had better not be talking about my son. I am _genuinely ready_ to kill something right now, don’t give me an excuse.”

            “Meant more along the lines of that brother of yours, but feel free to interpret any way you want,” Chau said smoothly. “Take it easy on the gin, Marshall. Stuff’ll go right to your head.”

            The woman slid off the bed gracefully when Herc glared at her, and he sat down heavily in her place. He took a smaller sip out of the bottle and then set it aside.

            “What the hell do you _want?”_

“To get a few of my affairs in order,” Chau said. “You’re not the only one heading out to greener pastures, chief. Better to get everything settled now while I can still get ahold of you so easy.”

            He lounged in the chair, the grin growing wider.

            “Y’know, I love how your first question is _why_ am I here, and not _how.”_

“I prefer not to know how anything you’ve got your hands in works,” Herc said icily.

            “Listen, there’s no need for the attitude,” Chau said. “Way I see it we’ve always been on the same side.”

            “Only as long as it’s been _profitable_ for you. I’m not going to bandy words with you. Get to the point of this.”

            Chau watched him silently for a minute, his amusement turning sour.

            “You owe me.”

            Herc stared at Chau, then rolled his eyes and took another drink from the nip bottle.

            “How so?”

            “My agreement with Pentecost said I had full rights to every kaiju that the Breach puked up on the Pacific seaboard,” Chau said in a low voice. “And it just so happens a category four landed right on your front lawn, and then it got carted out again without any of my people getting a chance at it. Bad business, Marshall.”

            “I cannot even _begin_ to tell you how much I don’t care,” Herc said flatly. “Any agreements Marshall Pentecost made with you _died_ with him. Go slither back into the boneslums.”

            “Hong Kong ain’t my place anymore,” Chau said. “Broadening my horizons.”

            “They finally chased you out, didn’t they.”

            Chau was silent, and Herc smiled thinly at him.

            “So what is this, really. One last shakedown before you go into hiding? Who’d you piss off, Hannibal?”

            “You think you got it all figured out, don’t you,” Chau said coldly. “I’m here to get what I’m owed. I can make your life pretty damn difficult if you start welching.”

            “You think I’m scared of a two-bit thug like you? You’re a walking caricature. There’s _nothing_ frightening about you.”

            “Maybe not. But s _omething’s_ got all you Corps types running scared,” Chau said. “And not just because of Scunner crawlin’ out of the ocean, either. Digging up that Jaeger graveyard for bones and building up defenses all over the place. Doesn’t take a genius to know it’s _war_ you’re bracin’ for, chief.”

            Something in Herc’s expression made Chau grin like a skull again, flashing his gold teeth.

            “Ahh. Hit a nerve, huh? Look, Marshall. I know how much you and your buddies would love to wash your hands of me. But the sad truth is, you _need_ me.”

            “I don’t need an _organ broker_ associating with me.”

            “That ain’t all I’m good for and you know it. What kinda work do you think I was doing before the kaiju started showing up? There’s a lot more to what I can do for you…if you’re willing to play fair.”

            “Play _fair?_ ” Herc asked, incredulous. “Do you even know what that means?”

            “Mostly it means giving me what I want, when I want it,” Chau said evenly. “And in return…Marshall, I can open up an entire _world_ for you. All I need is to make sure we can trust each other, y’know?”

            “Scunner’s PPDC property, wholly and fully,” Herc said abruptly. “There’s no part of it left for you to salvage.”

            “Not lookin’ to get that deep-fried lizard back, much as those tusks would’ve gone for at market,” Chau said. “What I want is undisputed rights to the ones that are _coming_.”

            Herc went very still, and Chau laughed.

            “Oh, you should _see_ the look on your face. Come on, Marshall! We all know this shit ain’t over, not by a long shot. So you closed one door. Big fuckin’ deal. Nobody knows how the Breach even opened to begin with. You gonna sit there and tell me with a straight face you think they’re not banging away at the next batch of monsters right now?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Yeah you do,” Chau said, leaning forward. “You know pretty damn well. Scunner _said_ they were comin’ back.”

            “And just _how_ do you know what it said?” Herc asked, deadly quiet. Chau shrugged gamely.

            “Every ship’s got its rats. You think you run yours so tight that one or two haven’t sneaked aboard?” he said. “A united front’s real good to play to the civilians, but you and me, we know better. I got eyes all over. You’d do well to remember that.”

            He leaned back and lounged in the chair, holding his hand out to the woman. She drew a cigar out of a gold case and a lighter out from her purse unasked, lighting it for him and presenting it. Chau took a long pull on it, exhaling the smoke in a stream towards the ceiling.

            “So how _is_ that little spastic, anyway? Y’know, the one with the glasses,” he said. “Definitely had a few screws loose when I met him. I have to imagine it’s only gotten worse after that whole shitstorm last month.”

            “He’s none of your business,” Herc snapped.

            “Oh, but I think he is,” Chau replied. “Fella was crazy, no doubt about it. Sharp enough to cut himself, though. Head like that on his shoulders, that’s just _askin’_ for trouble…unless he were in the right hands.”

            “You’re not getting your paws on him,” Herc said. “If you even _try,_ I’ll see that you’re locked up in the deepest hole the Corps has. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

            Chau started to laugh loudly, shoulders shaking and face turning red.

            “You haven’t got the balls,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “And you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to keep me there. C’mon, chief. The world isn’t as just and fair as you think it is.”

            “Anyone that thinks the world is fair is an idiot or an idealist,” Herc said sharply. “Nothing is fair. But I will do everything in my power to bring you down if you try to move against me and mine, Hannibal. I will _ruin you._ ”

            Something in Herc’s voice gave Chau pause, sobering him. He leaned back in the chair and they studied each other silently for a minute.

            “You’re different now,” Chau said eventually. Herc stayed silent. “Feelin’ the weight of the world. Brings you down with it, doesn’t it?”

             Herc just stared at him narrowly, looking like he would love nothing better than to punch Chau in the throat. Chau didn’t seem bothered by this, nonchalantly tapping the cigar ashes onto the floor.

            “Look, Marshall,” he said reasonably. “The thing is, we’re livin’ in a world that runs more on barter every day. Favor for favor, y’know? Let me borrow him from time to time, and anything you need, I can _promise_ I can deliver.”

            “Why the sudden interest in him?” Herc asked coldly. “You turned him out on the streets during the double event. You could have gotten him killed.”

            “Lack of foresight on my part. Kid’s a freak, but he knows kaiju better than I ever could,” Chau said. “Listen. Just…loan him out to me for a month. He’ll be more useful than crazy when I give him back _._ ”

            “Newton’s had enough bad influences of late,” Herc spat. “The last thing he needs is something like _you_ toying with him.”

            “So what about the cripple, then? Head for numbers like that?” Chau leaned back in his chair and whistled. “You’d never have to worry about funding again with the way I could use him.”

            The idea gave Herc pause and he hated himself deeply for it. Chau grinned at him, taking another pull on his cigar.

            “So _that’s_ the way to your heart, huh? You might think we’re not on the same side, but we _definitely_ have a couple things in common.”

            Herc stood up, looking at Chau with disgust.

            “I want to protect people,” he said. “You want to use them. We have _nothing_ in common. This conversation is _over._ ”

            “We still gotta discuss salvage rights. I’m not going anywhere.”

            “When the battle comes, Chau, you and your friends aren’t going to want to be anywhere near it,” Herc snarled. “We haven’t _begun_ to see war. So don’t fucking pander to me about backroom deals and how you can help me out. Nothing you have is worth bartering my people’s souls to get.”

            He pointed to the door.

            “Get out. Slither into whatever hole you think is safest and wait for the fires to pass you by. And do not _ever_ contact me again.”

            Chau had gone stone silent, and the woman watched Herc with wide eyes. After a long moment, Chau twisted his cigar out on the arm of the chair and stood, brushing himself off.

            “You’re a little soused,” he said softly. “So I’ll let this go for now.”

            He put a hand on Herc’s shoulder, squeezing far too hard. Herc refused to wince.

            “Don’t reject the end result ‘cause you don’t like the means to get it, _Hercules,_ ” he continued. “Good men are a dime a dozen. It’s the _smart_ ones that last to the end of the day. And I gotta say, you don’t strike me as a good man.”

            Herc stared up at Chau with loathing.

            “So what do you think I am?”

            “Someone who’ll willingly throw one person under the bus to save a hundred in their place,” Chau said. “Did it with your _son_ , didn’t you?”

            Dizzying rage blinded him in a haze of red, and suddenly Herc’s hand was throbbing in agony, his knuckles split and starting to swell before he even realized what he had done. The woman was helping Chau up off the floor and his mouth was bloody. Herc could feel the pounding of his pulse in his head and he struggled to control himself.

            “ _Get. Out.”_

Chau shrugged the woman off and worked his jaw, spitting a bit of blood onto the carpet.

            “Oh, Marshall,” he said, and he only sounded amused. “You’re a hell of a lot more fun than Stacker ever was. We’ll talk again soon.”

            He patted Herc’s shoulder as he passed by, turning to look at him as the woman opened the door.

            “ _Awful_ sorry about your boy. Hope it doesn’t keep you up at night.”

            The door shut sharply behind him, and Herc jolted at the noise like he’d been struck.

 

\--

 

“Keep as close an eye on that shitheel as you can,” Chau muttered to the woman, nodding towards Herc’s door. “I wanna know what he’s got going on while he’s here.”

            “He’s leaving for Los Angeles in two days,” the woman replied. Chau grunted, taking out a silk handkerchief and dabbing at his split lip.

            “Fucker has a good swing, I’ll give him that much. Tail him and follow to LA. I’ll make all the arrangements, see if we can’t get a couple eyes in the new Shatterdome.”

            “Tendo Choi will be there as well. Might be worth talking to him,” the woman said thoughtfully. Chau shook his head at her.

            “What _is_ it with you and that rockabilly secretary? He wears _bowties_ for Chrissakes.”

            The woman smiled very slightly.

            “He’s the LOCCENT administrator. Not a secretary.”

            “Same difference. And he’s Hansen’s lapdog besides, no use trying to buy him. Keep focused,” Chau said sharply, pointing at Herc’s door again. “Watch him.”

            The woman nodded, her demure expression turning to something far subtler as she watched her employer walk away. She glanced briefly at Herc’s door before taking out a keycard of her own, unlocking the room across the hall.

 

\--

 

            Vid-call phones were hard to tap into, even if you knew your way around the program. When Herc got the phone call, the woman was working diligently to crack into it – but the conversation grew so loud so quickly, she almost didn’t need to bother, one-sided though it was.

            “Hermann? Jesus, what’s…no, I don’t- will you calm _down,_ please?”

            The woman gave up trying to splice into the call and simply opened her door a crack. Herc’s voice echoed through the hallway.

            “No, I haven’t heard from Tendo,” he was saying. The woman perked up immediately, leaning as close to the crack in the door as she dared. “Because I’ve been _busy,_ Hermann! What is this even about?”

            A pause.

            “I didn’t get any briefings about his assignment. All they told me was that they- did you just _swear?_ ”

            A longer pause.

            “Calm down. Calm d- _Hermann!_ For God’s sake! He needs to be in Los Angeles, not tagging along with-“

            There was an incredibly loud stream of muffled shouting coming from the other end of the line, and the woman strained her ears trying to hear it. It finished fairly quickly. There was a brief stretch of silence, and then Herc’s voice rang with rage so loudly into the hall it made the woman flinch.

            “ _They’re making him do_ _WHAT?”_


	13. Chapter 13

13.

 

 

            _Some terror in the swishing tall grass seemed added to that of the diabolically pounding sea, and I started up crying aloud and disjointedly, “Tiger? Tiger? Is it Tiger? Beast? Beast? Is it a Beast that I am afraid of?”_

            Newt stared at the words without really reading them, his eyes wandering over the same sentence over and over. He had withdrawn into himself the past two days, mostly just sleeping and avoiding all human contact. The idea of calling Gottlieb had been briefly toyed with but the prospect of being yelled at, even if it was only out of worry, exhausted him. He just wanted to go to Pitcairn and get it over with. If he walked off the island again or was carted out in a box, either way at least he would have done what the Corps wanted of him.

            He hadn’t said goodbye to Tendo. He hadn’t had the heart to knock on his door at five in the morning for a last farewell, especially after stoically ignoring him behind a locked door every time Tendo had tried to see him. He hadn’t meant to act like a sulking teenager, really; he simply had lost the energy to do anything but sit and wait for what was starting to feel like a death sentence.

He wondered briefly about how apathetic he felt. The night of the meeting with Lightcap, he had been so rigid with anger and fear he could barely think straight. He remembered bits and pieces of her presentation; in-depth studies of the hivemind, examining the potential of developing a mechanical equivalent between Jaeger computer systems, on and on and on. If Newt hadn’t been so absorbed in his own thoughts he had no doubt he would have found her proposals incredibly interesting; everyone else in the room sure as hell had.

But where Lightcap was cautiously optimistic, Newt felt hollow. It was actually rather freeing – he had slept deeply from total emotional burnout, and if he had dreamed at all he couldn’t remember them. He let himself be directed and pulled around by Lightcap or Pitcairn personnel, first out of the hotel, then into a car, and now onto the ferry. The island had once hosted a small civilian population, but everything had been converted into Pan Pacific Defense Corps property. The only thing they hadn’t been able to add on was an airstrip; the ferry departed to the island once a month, taking on supplies and people.

Isolated from everything, Pitcairn was a fortress in the middle of the ocean. And now he was going to be stuck there for at least a month, maybe more. Something shifted under the heavy apathy as Newt wondered how long it would take anyone to find out if he died there. Did they bury personnel that died onsite? He’d be pretty expensive to ship back home, after all. Maybe they’d cremate him and punt the canister into the sea.

Newt sighed, snapping his book shut and sinking deeper into his seat. He was being too self-indulgent in feeling sorry for himself. Other people dealt with worse things every day, what right had he to complain? Raleigh had had his brother ripped out of Gipsy Danger _and_ directly out of Raleigh’s own head in the Drift. Now _that_ was something to be depressed about. Or what about Mako? Her entire life would have broken other people with just a hairsbreadth less strength than she had.

            He had no excuse to be scared or depressed. He had chosen this for himself – though it still didn’t feel like a true choice, and it never fucking would – and all he could do now was go through with it. Newt closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cold window, feeling the subtle vibration of the engine that shivered through the boat.

            Someone sat down heavily in the seat next to him, and he pulled away as they brushed against him.

            “Not to be rude,” he said flatly, not bothering to look over. “ But I don’t want company. Go sit somewhere else.”

            “Well, I have to say that _wounds_ me.”

            Newt’s eyes snapped open. Tendo was stretched out in the seat beside him, giving him a casual sidelong glance.

            “Mornin’.”

            “You…”

            “Mmhm?”

            Newt shook his head in confusion, voice fading to a faint sound.

            “That was a really nice try, sneaking out of the hotel without saying anything,” Tendo said mildly. “Which I actually _am_ kind of angry about, by the way.”

            “I didn’t want to…”

            “Don’t explain, I know what you were thinking. Doctor Gottlieb’s right. You like to be the cross-bearer.”

            Something deep in Newt’s chest hurt at the mention of Gottlieb, a complicated knot of guilt and loneliness that made it briefly hard to breathe.

            “You… you talked to him?”

            “Last night, briefly. Well…I wouldn’t call it _talking._ Mostly him yelling at me and demanding to talk to you.”

            “That’s why you were hammering at my door, then,” Newt said. Tendo nodded.

            “For twenty friggin’ minutes, by the way. When I finally told him you weren’t coming out he called you a…ah, shit, how’d it go,” Tendo said, face screwing up as he tried to remember. “Christ, I don’t even know half the words he used. I think ‘troglodyte’ came up at one point.”

            Newt laughed a little, the apathetic shell starting to crack.

            “He breaks that one out when he gets really pissed off at me,” he said. “Shit. Ah, shit, I should’ve…”

            He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

            “I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve said goodbye. I don’t think they’ll let me contact anyone outside the island once we get there.”

            He suddenly jolted, looking at Tendo with wide eyes.

            “Tendo, I’m going to be there a _month._ The ferry only runs every four weeks and…”

            He trailed off as Tendo looked at him evenly.

            “I know,” he said. “But if you think that I’m just gonna let these _..._ ” He worked his jaw for a second, biting back ugly words. “These… _people_ keep you by yourself without anyone familiar to talk to?”

            He shook his head sharply, settling back deep into his own seat.

            “They’ll have to drag me away. And if they _do,_ they can answer to Marshall Hansen about it.”

            “Hansen’s the one that told me to go. He didn’t know about this?”

            “About them wanting to plug you into another kaiju brain? _Fuck_ no, he didn’t. He almost had a stroke when Doctor Gottlieb told him.”

            The painful knot twisted in Newt’s chest again, and felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Herc hadn’t known. By the sound of it, he would never have allowed any of this if he _had._ The sense of being discarded Newt had carried since Herc had handed him the letter disappeared, and a sick, exhausted laugh escaped from him.

            “He didn’t know,” Newt said, and he shook with laughter. “And now it’s too late. Everyone knows and I can’t back out of it.”

            “You can,” Tendo said tensely, voice low. “Say the word. We’ll get off this boat _right now._ Just say you don’t want to do it, Newt. We can still leave.”

            The engine hummed louder, the ferry starting to pull away from the dock.

            Newt screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, leaning hard back against his seat.

            “It’s a long trip,” he said. “Wake me when we dock?”

            Tendo sighed.

            “Yeah. Okay.”

 

\--

 

            “Gentlemen. Welcome to Pitcairn Island.”

            Tendo was feeling nauseous from the pitching waves that had beat against the ferry for almost two hours, and the ground seemed to be rocking under his feet. Newt, apparently so indifferent to everything that not even seasickness could touch him, gave Lightcap a vague nod of acknowledgement.

            “Not as impressive as I thought it’d be,” he said. Lightcap shrugged slightly.

            “It’s gotten a little rough around the edges the past year,” she said, leading them through the massive glass front doors and into the main foyer. It was an airy, sweeping space, the floor to ceiling windows giving a bright view of the coastline and ocean stretching into the distance. The interior decoration, on the other hand, was questionable.

            “Is the skull really necessary?” Newt asked.

            “Apparently the first director was something of a trophy collector,” Lightcap said dryly. Newt touched the thick glass of the case, the kaiju skull leering eyelessly down at him.

            “Someone you know?” Tendo asked softly. Newt nodded.

            “Kaiceph,” he said. “Attacked Cabo San Lucas. They had to nuke it so many times they irradiated half the livable area, Cabo’s practically a wasteland now.”

            He traced his fingertips absently on the glass.

            “It was scared when it started burning,” he said, so quietly Tendo had to strain to hear it. Lightcap cleared her throat and Newt blinked, jarred back to reality. He shook his head slightly and looked to her. “Sorry, did you…?”

            “If you’ll follow me, gentlemen,” Lightcap said, giving Newt a sidelong look. “We still have to prepare things in the lab, Doctor Geiszler, so you’ll have some time to get settled in.”

            “Why?”

            “Truthfully, we weren’t expecting you to agree as quickly as you did,” Lightcap said. “The remainder of the week was going to be devoted to…”

            “Convincing me?” Newt asked, voice edged with too-sharp humor. “Yeah. Glad I kind of just rolled over for it, huh?”

            Lightcap regarded Newt with narrowed eyes, and Tendo bit back a sigh behind him.

            “Don’t make me the enemy here, Doctor Geiszler,” she said softly. “You may not believe me, but I do have your best interests at heart. That’s why they brought me onto this project.”

            Newt glanced at her briefly.

            “Of course, Doctor Lightcap,” he said, and Tendo heard a shadow of Gottlieb’s austerity in his voice. “Please excuse me. It’s been a difficult few days.”

            Lightcap nodded abruptly, gesturing for them to follow. Tendo fell into step beside Newt, elbowing him hard.

            “Don’t be a dick,” he said in an undertone. “She doesn’t deserve that kind of attitude.”

            “Don’t lecture me,” Newt growled, giving Tendo an icy look. “I promised Hansen I’d behave. I’ll try harder so I don’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”

            “ _Hey_ ,” Tendo said sharply, grabbing Newt by the shoulder. Lightcap was a few steps ahead of them, seemingly out of earshot of their hushed conversation. “Don’t be a dick to _me_ , either. I’m here because I’m your friend, but that means a lot of stuff is getting screwed over in the meantime. You can be as scared as you want, I will never fault you for that. But that isn’t a free pass to be an asshole. You understand me?”

            The impassive expression on Newt’s face faded, an embarrassed flush replacing it.

            “I understand,” he said, chastened. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be sorry,” Tendo said, more gently. “Just cut the shit. Deal?”

            “Deal.”

            They shook hands with only slight awkwardness, ending in a fistbump that made Newt snort with a quickly smothered laugh when Lightcap looked back at them.

 

 

\--

 

            There wasn’t much to settle into. The barracks were Spartan in furnishings, though the military bareness of his room reminded Newt of his Shatterdome quarters comfortingly. He had a vid-call console, small computer, a bed, and a window that looked out inland.

He was glad he couldn’t see the ocean. He doubted he’d want to in the days to come. Newt stretched out on his bed, trying to ignore how the springs creaked under his weight. He doubted he’d be sleeping much soon, too. If the dreams were hard to bear now, he didn’t even want to think what they would be like after having a kaiju-Drift refresher. It would be like coming off Scunner’s influence all over again.

 The first days after Scunner’s death had been particularly hard to get through. Newt had been lucid for a few minutes after the kaiju died, but then his mind had simply shorted out, too overloaded to cope. He hadn’t slept for two full days afterwards, certain if he closed his eyes he would wake up trapped within the hivemind again.

 Gottlieb had stayed with him in the med bay the entire time, coaxing him to take his medication and patiently waiting out the delirium. The memories blurred together into a fever dream and no matter how hard he tried, Newt couldn’t recall when or how he’d pulled himself back together.

Newt sighed heavily, yanking his pillow out from under his head and putting it over his face. Aside from Tendo, who would even care if he had a complete mental breakdown here? They would probably use it as a chance to study him. Maybe he’d start speaking in tongues; the kaijus creators spoke in shrieks and squeals no human could hope to reproduce, but if he was driven crazy enough maybe Newt could attempt it. Hell, he already _felt_ half-crazy. He might as well try it now.

He pressed his pillow more firmly against his face and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a grating shriek. The muffled sound still rang in his ears and echoed off the bare ceiling, and he only stopped when the pain in his throat grew unbearable. It hadn’t accomplished anything, but Newt had to admit he felt a little better.

The overhead light buzzed and faded to a faint gold glow and a soft static hiss filled Newt’s ears. He sat up slowly, watching the bulb flicker and fade. He jumped off his bed and yanked his door open, looking around in the corridor. All around him, the lights struggled.

Pitcairn had its own system of power grids. Hydroelectric mostly, and boosted from a field of solar panels that dominated a chunk of the island. There was nothing else that could be pulling on the grid enough to cause a surge. The lights buzzed and suddenly snapped back to normal. Newt waited, listening with straining ears for a hint of static buzzing, or the shattering of an overheated bulb. There was only silence and he trusted that even less. A woman in Pitcairn lab uniform was walking down the corridor and she gave him a curious look.

“Doctor…Doctor Geiszler? Are you alright?”

“The lights,” Newt said, pointing to the overheads. “Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“The surge! How did you not notice it?” Newt asked. The lab tech shrugged apologetically.

“The facility isn’t in as good a shape as it used to be,” she said. “The labs are the priority for maintenance, so the rest of the building’s kind of held up by duct tape at the moment. Doctor…are you sure you’re alright?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re…um. Hugging your pillow.”

Newt looked down.

“Ah. Um. Yes, I….apparently am,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly and tossing it back into his room. “I don’t have a good explanation for that.”

“I didn’t see anything,” the tech said tactfully. Newt blinked at her, then smiled uncertainly.

“Uh…thanks. Thank you,” he said. “I’m Newton. Newt, I mean.”

“I know,” the tech said, smiling a bit in return. She stuck her hand out and Newt shook it unthinkingly. “I work down in the bio-labs, we use a lot of your research in our work. I…I actually wrote my dissertation based on your research about Onibaba versus Earth deep-sea crustacean evolutionary tracks and-“

The tech cut herself off, looking embarrassed.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I’m rambling, I shouldn’t be bothering you.”

“No, no, it’s fine! Wait up,” Newt said, hastily closing his door and jogging after the retreating woman. “You wrote your dissertation on that stuff? I submitted that study to four different journals, they all rejected it.”

“It leaked online,” the tech said, an eager note in her voice. “It was _huge_ with Brown’s biology department, we-”

“Oooh, you’re from _Brown,_ ” Newt said mock-haughtily. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can keep associating with you. It might get back to someone at MIT.”

The woman looked shocked at first, and then smothered a laugh as she realized Newt was joking.

“Well, it’s just awfully unfortunate we can’t all be as stuck-up and exclusive as MIT, sir,” she said. “The world does need people with _practical_ skills, after all.”

Newt spluttered, a genuine laugh escaping him so loudly it was startling.

“I could tell you _horror stories_ about Brown’s science department heads. I’m _begging_ you, let me tell them.”

“I happen to be _very_ fond of my old professors, Doctor,” the tech replied airily. “Though I bet you’d be happier gossiping about your old MIT peers?”

“No, see, I only gossip about them if I’m drunk enough first,” Newt said. “Sober, I’ve got a code of honor.”

“Maybe I could fix that, then,” the tech said. She went wide-eyed as she realized what she’d said, clapping a hand to her mouth. Newt was staring at her in amused astonishment. “That didn’t come out right at all. At _all._ Oh my God. You must think I’m a complete…oh my _God_.”

“This is probably the best conversation I’ve had in weeks,” Newt said earnestly, grinning. “You’re doing fine, I swear.”

“Oh. Oh! Great! So…would you maybe…like to go to…lunch?” the tech asked. “Not to presume anything! It’s just, I was just going there and then I saw you and I’ve, I’ve honestly admired your work for years and I was hoping maybe we could talk?”

“I’d _love_ to,” Newt said. In Hong Kong, he had been half-used to people staring at him like he was diseased. To realize the stigma hadn’t followed him was startling. It felt so good to be _normal_ again. Newt wanted to hug the woman and thank her for the kindness of looking him in the eye without flinching.

They walked to the galley together, talking eagerly, and for the first time in weeks Newt felt almost human again.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

 

 

            “You don’t like me much, do you?”

            Tendo looked up from his tray in surprise as Lightcap sat down in front of him. He started to answer and remembered his mouth was full, hastily chewing on what was trying its best to be fried chicken. He didn’t miss much about Hong Kong, but the decent quality of the food had been undeniable; Pitcairn was scraping the bottom of the barrel on several fronts.

            “I’m sorry?” he asked finally. Lightcap looked at him frankly.

            “You don’t like me,” she repeated. “Because of what I’m involved in with Doctor Geiszler.”

            “I…this is kind of inappropriate,” Tendo said uneasily. “Why are you asking me this?”

            “Because Doctor Geiszler can’t stand the sight of me and he’s not very good at hiding it,” Lightap said. Tendo couldn’t help but wince, and she nodded knowingly. “I just wasn’t sure if it was a combined dislike between the two of you.”

            “He…Newt’s not very good at processing emotions,” Tendo said. “He gets kind of jumbled. If he’s said anything to you-”

            “I don’t need you to reprimand him, he’s not a child,” Lightcap said. She took a sip of water and started to pick at her own food, glancing around the small galley.

 It was bright and open like the rest of the public areas of the facility, windows looking out towards the sea, a thick blue stripe melding seamlessly into the horizon. Several groups of people were scattered around the tables, the noisiest of which included Newt – he had discovered something of a kinship with the bio-lab techs, interacting with them more easily than Tendo would have thought him capable of. It had been a pleasant surprise to see he was unneeded most of the time over the past three days.

            “He’s afraid of what you represent,” Tendo said eventually, taking another bite of greasy chicken. “You don’t understand half of what Scunner did to him.”

            “All I’ve been _given_ is a basic understanding. He won’t give me anything else.”

            “You’re not the project head,” Tendo said. “Why does it matter how much you understand?”

            “Because it’s my job to take what he learns and translate it into something we can use.” Lightcap sighed wearily, stabbing at a pile of overcooked green beans. “The Drift is a window into pure abstraction. Imagery, impressions…he has to take in abstraction that’s in an entirely different language and then give it to me in a form I can understand. So you can see why there’s an issue about him not wanting to communicate with me.”

            Tendo glanced over at Newt. He was talking avidly to the knot of lab techs, practically bursting with enthusiasm Tendo hadn’t seen since before the Breach assault. Before he had Drifted, and begun to spiral downwards.

            “Why are you telling me this?”

            “Because I don’t need you to reprimand him. I need you to get him to trust me.”

            “Do it yourself,” Tendo said sharply, surprising himself. “I’m here to make sure he doesn’t go crazy from what you’re going to do to him. I don’t owe you any kind of favor.”

            Lightcap looked at him coolly, and Tendo felt a harsh jab of hypocrisy. Who was he to tell Newt to behave when _he_ was snapping at people at a moment’s notice?

            “I’m sorry,” he said. Lightcap shook her head and started to get up. “Doctor Lightcap, please. I’m _sorry._ I didn’t mean that.”

            Lightcap paused, and then sat down again. They regarded each other closely for a moment and Tendo was the one to look away.

            “I don’t understand half of what he did to himself,” he said, studying the tabletop. “All this stuff with hiveminds and kaiju and all that shit. I don’t _get it_ like he does. Like _you_ do. I do my job and pray I’ve helped out enough at the end of the day that people I care about just _might_ come back alive. That’s what I know.”

            He looked up to find Lightcap still studying him closely, and he felt pinned like an insect under a microscope.

            “It did something terrible to him,” he said, voice low. “It took him over, you understand? It ripped him away from himself and it _replaced_ him. He has nightmares every night and they’re that _thing’s_ memories. And it’s not just one, it’s _all_ of them _._ I don’t know how he hasn’t gone crazy yet. And I’m scared to death that he’s finally gonna break after helping you people out.”

            Lightcap was still silent and Tendo wished she’d speak, or at least quit staring at him. There was a sharp, calculating intelligence to her that he was familiar with. Newt and Gottlieb were the same way. Brilliant and slightly frightening with it; they moved through the world like they knew things about it Tendo would never grasp no matter how hard he tried.

            “So, when you ask me to make him trust you, you gotta understand why I can’t,” he continued. “He’s forcing himself to do this because he thinks it’s the only choice he has, but he’s scared of all of it. He doesn’t hate you, he’s _terrified_ of you.”

            Something in Lightcap’s expression flickered, and Tendo shrugged, picking listlessly at his food again.

            “You want my advice?” he asked. “Don’t try and be friends. Give him an order to follow. He’ll obey it and give you what you want.”

            “I’m not much for giving orders,” Lightcap said softly.

            “So learn,” Tendo said mercilessly, not looking up from his food. “And…I don’t hate you either, Doctor. But I’ve already picked my side in all this.”

            “Thank you for your time, Mister Choi.”

            Lightcap rose abruptly, leaving her tray behind. Tendo glanced up and watched her go, feeling his heart sink as she walked towards Newt’s table. She tapped his shoulder and he flinched almost reflexively at her touch, the life seeming to seep out of him bit by bit as she spoke.

            Wishing he had just taken Newt by the collar and dragged him off the ferry, Tendo looked down at his tray and kept eating.

 

\--

 

            The test was scheduled for ten o’clock in the morning. Four days had passed, the equipment going through rigorous maintenance and safety checks. The modified Pons system had gone through several dry runs already to ensure its stability.

            “How are you preventing burnout? I went through two specimens doing this,” Newt asked, hands jammed into his pockets as he studied the Pons. It looked radically different from the traditional Jaeger system, and from the system he’d cobbled together himself from looted parts. It was cold and clinical-looking, and he shuddered subtly at the thought of being hooked up to it.

            “By not fully engaging with the specimen,” Lightcap said. “The AI you’ll be partnering with will stimulate certain areas of activity. You’re job is to access those areas and process it.”

            “An AI? I’m not…” Newt trailed off. The idea of Drifting with another person felt like an intense betrayal to Gottlieb, but he hadn’t even thought of how he was supposed to survive the Drift again alone.

            “It’s a reformatted Jaeger AI,” Lightcap said, pointing to the row of processors behind the Pons. “It’s your partner without directly bonding to you. It can take the brunt of the force behind the Drift to prevent injury and protect you.”

            “It’s multitasking. How long can it process that much before it craps out completely?”

            “Longest test run was twenty minutes,” Lightcap said. Newt felt himself go cold.

            “Twenty minutes?” he asked. “I can’t…you can’t actually think I’m going to be Drifting that long. It’ll…”

            He felt the treacherous prickling heat of a panic attack start to burn in his chest and he took several deep breaths to calm himself. Lightcap watched him and he wished she would look away.

            “This isn’t like the Drifts you engaged in before,” she said. “You went in without safeguards both times. I designed this Pons system to afford every protection you didn’t have time to install.”

            “You’re plugging me into a computer and sending me to fish around in a kaiju brain,” Newt said flatly, still fighting with the edging panic. “Forgive me if I’m a bit leery about the whole thing. Whose brain _is_ it, anyway?”

             The specimen tank was enormous. The ugly, oblong brain inside was preserved differently from how Newt handled his own samples; more efficient and clean, and less like it was a prop in a mad scientist’s lab. The living tendrils tapped disturbingly at the glass, seeking out connections to the body it had been cut from. Newt was unsurprised to find himself fascinated by it; even reduced to base parts, kaiju were incredibly resilient to the suffering they went through.

            “It’s Meathead’s, actually,” Lightcap said. Newt wrinkled his nose.

            “Always thought that was a terrible name,” he complained. “Seriously. _Meathead._ Jesus Christ, at least put some effort into it.”

            “It’s from a premade codex, people didn’t just randomly decide to name it that,” Lightcap said bemusedly. “Rachnid didn’t look like a spider.”

            “They don’t have names at all,” Newt said absently, staring at the specimen as its tendrils slithered against the tank walls. “No one needs names in the hive.”

            “No one _needed,_ ” Lightcap corrected softly. Newt glanced over at her. “It’s not a conscious thing anymore, Doctor Geiszler.”

            “I…yeah. Right, you’re right. What’d I say?” Newt asked, but then shook his head. “Never mind.”

            He looked around uncomfortably for something to change the subject, and frowned as he spotted Tendo at the door. He excused himself silently from Lightcap, confused and a little irritated.

            “Why are you here?”

            “You’re seriously asking me that?” Tendo said, looking over Newt’s shoulder at the Pons. His gaze lingered warily on the specimen tank.

            “They’re not going to let you stay in here for the test,” Newt said. “And…”

            The panic prickled sickeningly in his chest and he forced himself to ignore it, looking at Tendo frankly.

            “And what?”

            “I don’t want you here,” he said, very softly. “I don’t want you seeing me if something…happens.”

            “Something?” Tendo asked. “You mean like _dying?_ Newt, you’re not gonna die. They’ve been working on this for ages to make sure it doesn’t hurt you.”

            “Stop trying to sound like them,” Newt said abruptly. “I don’t want to hear it from you. Just…give me a little dignity, okay? I’m meat on a slab to these guys. I don’t want you seeing me that way too.”

            Tendo stared at him, sagging slightly as he relented.

            “Alright. _Alright,_ if that’s what you want,” he said. Newt nodded mutely and started to turn away, but Tendo caught him by the shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay.”

            Newt gave him a tired grin.

            “Sure I will. I’m a fucking _rockstar_.”

            The laugh he startled out of Tendo chased some of the banked panic away, and Newt walked back to Lightcap and the waiting Pons with his head held a little higher.

 

\--

            It took almost twenty minutes for the system to initiate, running through rounds of last-minute tests as it warmed up. Newt sat down in a setup that reminded him vaguely of a dentist’s chair – though dentists generally didn’t strap their patients down.

            “Why the hell am I being locked into this?” he asked one of the technicians. None of the assisting lab techs were the ones he’d befriended, and for that he was grateful. It would have sucked to start convulsing or pitching a kaiju-induced mental breakdown in front of people he was getting along with.

            “It’ll be reading your vitals and securing you in case of…seizure,” Lightcap said, looking over from the Pons’ computer. “It’s a safety measure.”

            “Great,” Newt muttered, looking up at the ceiling. The Pons thrummed loudly between him and the specimen tank.

            The overhead lights gave a faint flicker.

            “Hey…”

            Lightcap was absorbed in her tasks and didn’t hear. Newt looked around, catching a lab tech’s eye and pointing at the ceiling.

            “Yes, sir?”

            “You saw that, right? The lights?”

            “We’ve been having surges for a month or so,” the tech said. “The Pons is on a separate generator so nothing’s interrupted. You’re fine, sir.”

            “That’s…okay,” Newt said, sitting back. The lights flickered in a rough undulating pattern, so faintly he had to stare at it to be certain. Blue spots danced in his eyes as he finally looked away, blinking hard. When he looked again they had begun to fade to a brownout.

            “Are you _sure?_ ” he asked the tech. The man nodded, more interested in adjusting cables along the Pons’ side than listening to Newt. He growled in irritation and sat back again. If his brain got fried because of a goddamned power surge…

            “AI is initiated and ready,” Lightcap said. Newt looked over to her, feeling his headset thrum faintly to life. “Starting neural bridge in fifteen seconds.”

            Newt felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he grabbed reflexively onto the arms of his chair. Lightcap watched him carefully.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Don’t ask me if I’m okay,” Newt said through clenched teeth, closing his eyes tightly. “Just _do_ it.”

            The Pons hummed loudly and Newt could have sworn he could feel the vibration of it in his skull, pulsing through his tight headset. There was buzzing in his ears and he couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or the godforsaken lights going into another brownout. His heart thudded and he could feel his breath catching in his chest, oh God, why had he told Tendo to leave? Oh God, he was doing something stupid all over again, Gottlieb had told him _don’t do anything stupid_ , he was such an idiot oh god he was so fucking _scared-_

            “- _seven, six, five-”_

            Don’t count down, what the hell was Lightcap doing counting down, didn’t she realize she was making it worse? No, no, that wasn’t Lightcap’s voice, that was the AI talking. An AI, a fucking AI, he was trusting his safety to a computer and computers constantly broke no no no _no_ he didn’t want to do this anymore stop stop please _stop-!_

“- _two, one. Neural bridge activated_.”

            Newt's body went rigid as the Pons blazed to life, and the world suddenly went away.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

 

 

            Sound and light rushed past in a blurred stream. No pain, at least. All Newt felt was a too-vivid awareness of himself – the panicked thudding of his heart, his breath coming in winded spurts. There was…a wall, cold and unyielding between him and something else. Something he knew he shouldn’t look at, that he should be struggling with all his strength to be getting away from. Where was he? What was happening?

_Can’t remember where where am    I   can’t   remember_

He realized he was straining hard against something pinning him down, and he thrashed against it.

            “Doctor Geiszler. You’re alright. You’re safe. Calm down.”

            Voice. Voices. He knew this one, he…he knew it, didn’t he? Sound and sight blurred back into the confusing stream and Newt shuddered, trying to let it run through him. Resistance was confusion. Let it go. Let it go. Watch it like they don’t belong to you. Memories, senses, nothing belonged to you here.

            The Drift is silence.  

            Newt made a soft, strained sound, coherent thought returning slowly. The Drift. He was…he was Drifting. Yes, he remembered now. The test. The wall was the AI. The thing beyond it

 

            _don’t look don’t look keep quiet don’t let it know you’re here_

            was the kaiju brain. They thought it wasn’t alive but Newt knew differently. Something moved in it, something searching, searching _searching,_ wanting to reconnect with what it had lost. No no no no no it couldn’t have him he wouldn’t let it in again never never _nevernevernever_

“Heart rate’s spiking. He’s going to knock himself out of synch.”

            The stream flooded bright and loud through Newt. He was blind and deaf inside it, pulled in a hundred different directions.

            “Doctor Geiszler,” another voice said, somewhere far away and very close. Lightcap.

            _Why did she ask me   this    whydidn’tIsayno_

“You need to let it pass. Don’t hold onto anything you see. You’re safe.”

            “He’s going to go into neural cascade, Doctor. Calm him down or unplug him.”

            Neural cascade. A complete physical and mental breakdown, unable to cope with the weight that came through the Drift. Hemorrhaging, seizure, death. Jaeger pilots had died from the cascade before. Was _he_ dying? The thought frightened him and Newt tried to push it away.

 

            _calm be calm calm down silencesilencesilence  silence silence be    sil e   n t_

“Heart rate’s starting to drop…”

            “Doctor Geiszler? Can you hear me?”

            Newt opened his eyes. The lab was gone. The stream had gone dim and silent, and the world was dark. He wasn’t blind; he could see himself. He was standing, and the chair and his headset were gone. He looked up and he realized he could see faint, flashing complex patterns of circuitry and code in the dark sky. The AI.

            “It’s incredible,” he murmured. Gottlieb would probably give an arm to see coding and numbers manifested like this. It moved through the empty space like a living thing, and if Newt strained to feel it moving through his mind, he could almost hear it. It was _alive_ , in its own way. God, wait until Gottlieb heard about this. He would never believe it.

            “Doctor Geiszler, you need to focus. Are you alright?”

            Newt shook himself, trying to collect his thoughts. He had expected the Drift to be agony like the first two times – live wires stabbing into his brain, a conduit to something that had nearly burned him from the inside out. The strange sense of detachment from himself was almost as bad.

            “I’m…I’m okay,” he said. “Disoriented. Doesn’t…I don’t feel…”

            “The AI’s taking the pain for you,” Lightcap said. “You’re getting the information it’s siphoning from the noise.”

            “It’s alive,” Newt said vaguely, coherent thought starting to slip. “Don’t…don’t make it do that. You’re hurting it.”

            “We may have to scrub the test, Doctor. He’s not responding stably enough.”

            “We’re not making him do this more than we have to,” Lightcap snapped. Newt listened, interest cutting through the confused fog. That had been genuine _concern_ in her voice. The sky above him shifted and churned with code, and he forced himself to look away. He shook his head hard to clear it.

            “No…I’m… I’m okay, I got it. I’m alright. What do I do?”

            “Are you sure?”

            “What do I _do?_ ” Newt repeated, annoyed. Lightcap laughed dryly somewhere above him.

            “Well, _there’_ s the attitude I’m used to. Alright, the trick here is to follow the AI’s path without letting yourself engage the RABIT. Don’t get distracted. Go where it leads you, and nowhere else.”

            “You understand what my attention span’s actually like, right?”

            “Now’s not the time to joke, Doctor Geiszler.”

            “Just Newt’s fine,” he said softly.

            “Sorry?”

            “Call me Newt.”

            Lightcap was silent and Newt looked around aimlessly, waiting. He felt something warm on his shoulder, and a sense of pressure. A hand, maybe.

            “Ready, Newt?” Lightcap asked softly.

            “Let’s go.”

            The world shifted around him and Newt tried not to lose the focus he was clinging onto, waiting for the patterns of code to settle. Follow the AI but don’t chase the rabbit.

            “Right,” Newt muttered to himself. “Easier said than done.”

            He wondered briefly how Lightcap was even hearing him. Was he speaking aloud back in the real world? Was she tapped into him somehow through a computer, or…ah, shit, who even _knew_ what going on out there. He could barely comprehend what he was doing inside the Drift. He cast his senses outwards, just a little, trying to feel the borders between the AI and the kaiju brain beyond. It was like touching a wall of ice, and Newt withdrew from it. He could feel the kaiju on the other side of it. It didn’t know he was there, not yet. Maybe it wouldn’t at all. Lightcap had seemed fairly sure it wasn’t cognizant.

            The code settled and Newt felt himself being pulled, guided by the program along the path it had created. He didn’t need to walk or even look around; he let it guide his mind like an experienced pilot might help train a recruit, showing them how to manipulate the Drift. It was a cold presence in the back of his head and he was glad it couldn’t bond to him. The dead kaiju connections were disturbing enough; he didn’t need to be bonded to a computer program too.

            He could feel the connections here. Outside the Drift it wasn’t so bad; like a spot of numbness that he had grown used to. But here…he felt them. Dozens upon dozens of frayed, dead bonds, pressing on his mind like a weight. Something was tangled up in them and he couldn’t tell what it was, and Newt found himself pawing at his head reflexively, trying to brush them away. His concentration began to falter as he gave into the distraction and the stream rose around him, the light and noise of it threatening to swallow him.

“Shit, shit shit, no, stop,” he hissed to himself, wrenching his hands away from his head. The dead kaiju bonds seemed to slither against his mind and he shuddered, thinking of Meathead’s brain in the specimen tank, its tendrils seeking out connection. The feeling was almost obscene in the sheer _wrongness_ of it. Newt made a small sound, rolling his shoulders and his head cricking to one side. He felt wrong. Missing parts, missing connections. Wrong, wrong _wrongwrongwrong-_

_no nonono stop it calm down stop it_

He shook himself again, and somewhere beside him Lightcap was talking to him; her voice was muffled under the roar of the stream, and Newt realized he was starting to panic. Don’t chase it. Don’t chase it, because God only knew what would happen if he did.

            “I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth, clawing himself free of the stream and the unnatural, ugly feeling of the dead bonds. The AI waited in his mind with perfect impassivity, and he clung to it. “I’m okay. Sorry, I’m okay now.”

            The roar faded to nothing, and Newt steeled his focus again. Follow, don’t chase. He could do it. He had to. The AI guided him along a projected, circuit-like pathway and he followed it doggedly, its indifferent presence a fixed point to hold onto. The kaiju bonds undulated sickeningly through him as he cast his senses out where the AI lead, nearly driving him to distraction. But again, somewhere in the knot of the dead connections, he _felt_ something.

            Newt wanted more than anything to poke at it and see what it was, but there was no time. He didn’t dare let his attention stray from the task at hand again; the stream was just under the surface, waiting for the slightest thing to provoke it again.

            It felt as though he was following the AI for hours. Time passed so strangely in the Drift; Lightcap had said the record had been twenty minutes to test the system. He couldn’t have been more than two or three minutes into it; a full twenty minutes would be days. Weeks.

            Something was in the middle of the AI’s pathway. An asymmetrical pattern, more organic than synthetic – surrounded by the computer’s constructions and the cold, looming presence of its walls, Newt felt incredibly uncomfortable even looking at it. It wasn’t supposed to be there.

            It was isolated, surrounded by a caging of code. Brilliant, acidic blue, glowing with a pulse like a heartbeat.

            Newt stared at it and reached out, drawn like iron to a magnet. The fear that had plagued him for weeks, the desperate self-preservation, everything seemed swept to the side and abandoned. This. _This_ was what he was missing. This was his missing part. How could he have forgotten? He needed it. It needed him and he needed it, and finally finally _finally_ there it was, yes yes  yes need no silence no sil ence

            With a fierce sound Newt jerked away from the cage, falling hard to the ground. He could feel his head slamming back against his chair outside the Drift, hands clawing at the armrests and twisting in the straps that kept him bound to it.

            What the hell was he even _thinking?_ It would be like setting drugs in front of an addict and expecting them not to use it. Newt didn’t dare to even look at the isolated…whatever it was. Memory? Thought? This entire thing was insane. He’d let it consume him and be perfectly content with losing himself in it. Who even knew if he’d come out of it sane, if at all?

            He couldn’t hear Lightcap anymore. Maybe she was busy doing something else. Kicking up the AI strength to control him, maybe. Newt sat on the ground sullenly, watching the patterns of coding shift and glow around him. Following the paths of circuitry lead his eyes up to the jagged, organic-looking blue spike, and Newt glared at it. Look at this. He’d gotten scared for a minute and now he was sulking like a child.

            It was dead. It didn’t have any power over him. _Scunner_ had had power. But it was dead and gone. They all were.

            Newt rolled to his feet, scowling at the spike. It was a dead memory. It was there to be used and studied, nothing more. It was a shade, and Newt was sick and tired of being afraid of ghosts.

            He stepped forward and stretched his hand out. It passed through the cage, and Newt refused to acknowledge the cold radiating off the thing inside. It wasn’t real. It was a projection, something he could recognize and manipulate. There was nothing to be afraid of.

            Newt closed his eyes and pressed his hand against it.

 

            _Painpainpainpain stars travel againagainagain failure break apart return to hive body to pools break apart breakbreakbreak build rip tear rend apart breakapart not right not right not yet soonsoonsoon_

_Obeyobeyobey directive directive find destroy kill them kill them ours ours ours OURS_

**_OURS  O URS KILL THEM OU R  S_ **

_Build build begin again resistance failure panic nononononononono again again build again create more more create more build better build stronger buildbuildbuild time running out timetimetime dyingdyingdying hate them hate them hate them KILL THEMKILLTHEMKILLTHEM_

            The memories screamed through Newt and he came back to himself curled up on the ground, legs drawn up to his chest and his arms thrown over his head to shield himself. He panted for breath, face wet with tears. A strange, strangled whine rang in his ears, a sound a whipped animal might make. He bit hard on his knuckles to make it stop.

            That hadn’t been useful at all. A confusing swirl of emotions he genuinely couldn’t comprehend, his brain scrabbling to apply meaning. What had felt like teeth tearing into his mind he could only barely call anger; the cold, suffocating weight had been grief. He didn’t remember any of the kaiju having emotions like that; Scunner had been raw rage and hatred, easy to comprehend despite everything.

            Newt pushed himself up, feeling as though his soul had been scoured. He cleaned his face off roughly with his sleeve, trying to piece the memories together again. Anger, hatred, fear…build. Building, yes, that had been the main thing. Building kaiju. Dismantling the ones that failed

 

            _Inefficient useless use this use this they know they adapt killthemkillthem use this_

and improving the design. Studying each Jaeger kill and…

            Newt shivered violently. The hivemind was almost like a living computer, limitless in its ability to process and store information. Their masters controlled them through it, clearly they had a way to tap into it and download information. The entire war had been like an experiment, adding one element to the next and studying the explosive reaction.

            How did they access it? How could they know what was happening in another _universe?_ Newt stood again, though he staggered like a drunk to one side and nearly fell over. The spike glowed coldly and he steeled himself, grabbing hold of it again.

            This time, it hurt.

 

            _Fearfearfear pain fear killthemkillthem directive follow directive find find find remove them hurtshurts pain_

_Metalmetalmetal crushing broken hurts fleefleeflee killflee flee? Directivedirective obey directive dyinghurtdying failing homehomehome no more no more no more mercy mercy homehomehome_

            _Studyseekill open open them kill them see let us see letussee study find learn stay die learn study_

_**J aeg e   r**_

On his hands and knees, Newt fought against the urge to vomit. He shook violently and winced at the wet streak burning across his lips and down his chin. He wiped a hand across his face and stared at the blood.

            Blue, glowing blood.

            “No. Oh, no…”

            Too much. Too much. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. The animal whine clawed its way out his throat again and Newt shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. The kaiju bonds slithered against his mind again and he realized his mistake; too much far too quickly. He was hurting himself, weakening himself, oh god what had he done he had to stop had to wake up hard to think so hard to _think_

_No, no no, stop, calm down, calm down!_

 

            Oh God someone help it _hurt-!_

            _Don’t let go don’t chase don’t let go my name is Newton Geiszler I work for the Pan Pacific Defense Corps I’mnotcrazyohgodithurts no no focus calm down I am head of the K-Science division under Marshall Stacker Pentecost nononononohe’sdead myfault I did that I killed him they knew because of me_

Newt startled himself, the intruding thoughts drawing him out of the shock.

 

              _Hivemind a hive mentality they knew because of me I did it I killed him I killed Chuck Hansen I killed the Wei brothers I killed the Kaidonovskys oh god I killed them it’s my fault_

            It was like someone else was screaming in his mind, and Newt didn’t know how to shut them up. He pushed himself up again, shaking with cold horror. No. No, he hadn’t killed _anyone_. He hadn’t caused the double event. He hadn’t made Leatherback or Otachi. He hadn’t done anything.

 

            _I did_

_I did_

_They knew because I let them in I let them in I let them see they changed them to kill better because of **me**_

            “Stop,” Newt said, voice strangled. He buried his face in his hands and tears started pooling against his palms. “Stop. Let me out. Stop the test. _Please.”_

           

            _A hivemind I went into a hivemind they spied on us through it they studied us I let them find me they saw me they know me they wanted to **find me** it’s all my fault_

_M y   f aul t_

            “Stop,” Newt whispered again, curling up and trying to make himself small. He could almost feel his sanity breaking apart, the threads of it snapping and unraveling one by one. Why wouldn’t they let him out of the Drift? Why weren’t they listening?

 

            _They can’t hear me something’s happened something must have happened jesus god I’m scared I’m scared tendo marshall lightcap anyone anyone someone listen to me Hermann please god I’m so fucking scared help me_

             

            Newt shuddered again and sucked in a breath so deep it hurt. Gottlieb wouldn’t be panicking. He’d be contemptuous of the whole goddamned thing, shattering sanity and all. He wouldn’t be begging for help. Baring his teeth in an animal snarl, Newt pushed himself up and forced himself to stand. The spike glowed with deceptive harmlessness.

            Too much, too quickly. He’d almost broken himself, but now he knew better. Newt scrubbed violently at his face, ignoring the bright blue streaks staining his sleeves and skin. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t killed _anyone._

“My name is Newton Geiszler,” he whispered to himself, willing the crippling panic and fear to fade. “I work for the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. I co-head the K-Science division under Marshall Sta…under Marshall _Hercules Hansen_. I didn’t kill them, I didn’t kill them…”

            He shook his head hard. Concentrate. Focus on what was real, not what was trying to rip him apart.

            “My division co-director is Doctor Hermann Gottlieb,” he said, closing his eyes in exhaustion. “He…he doesn’t think I’m crazy.”

            And he wouldn’t think Newt was a murderer, either. He would probably berate Newt for allowing himself to become overdramatic over things he couldn’t change, and actions that had had to be taken. How else would the Breach have been closed, if not for what he had done? The Rangers and their Jaegers had taken the last steps to bar the door, but Newt and Gottlieb had shown them the way to do it.

            Newt knelt, head falling back on his shoulders and looking up at the code-clouded sky. It wasn’t his fault. He had done what he had had to.

            God, he was so _tired._ The AI pulled at him, trying to make him move, but he ignored it. He just had to rest. Just for a minute. How much time had passed outside the Drift? Five minutes? Ten? The test surely had to be over soon.

            Why had Lightcap stopped talking to him?

            Newt stood unsteadily, trying to keep his balance. The code was shifting rapidly around him, and the cold, forbidding sense of the walls felt…different. Strained. Like something was…

…pushing _against_ it.

            Newt went very, very still. He had tapped directly into a kaiju’s brain. The hivemind he knew was dead and gone. He had seen it. He’d _felt_ it.

            But the brain in the specimen tank was alive. No matter what the Pitcairn scientists had done to trap and restrain it, it was alive.

            “I’m such an idiot,” Newt whispered to himself, looking up at the sky again. The code flickered. If he concentrated, he could feel the walls of the AI shudder as though resisting immense pressure, starting to crack bit by bit.

            “Doctor Lightcap,” he called, voice raising. “Let me out. _Get me out.”_

There was a soft hissing noise, like static. Newt flinched at it, rubbing at his ears and trying to dispel it. Static? What...?

            The sky flickered and undulated, a faint pulsing pattern like a heartbeat. Newt had to stare at it to see it, mouth going dry.

            The Pons was on a separate generator. The surges weren’t supposed to be able to touch it.

            “Doctor Lightcap?” he called again. “ _Caitlin?_ ”       

            The stream of blinding, deafening memories and impressions was gone. The sound of static had replaced it, and the inescapable sense of _pressure._ He had interacted with something alive, and it knew where he was. And he had no way to escape it.

            The sky rippled again, and the sound of static grew deafening. Newt grit his teeth and closed his eyes, hands clapping against his ears.

            The static rose in a wave, and suddenly the streams and clouds of code sputtered and died.

 

\--

 

            “-what do you _mean_ the generator’s down? Get it back up, kick it if you have to!”

            The techs scattered around Lightcap, running from one end of the Pons to the other. The lights had died completely, and to Lightcap’s cold horror the Pons had struggled and then followed suit. It made no sense. The power draw had been tested and retested, there shouldn’t have been enough strain to knock it offline. She looked at Newt and bit back a cry of alarm at how pale and still he had gone, a thick stripe of blood oozing from his nose. His pupils were blown to the edge of his irises, and the left was wreathed in a hemorrhage, veins breaking as she watched.

            “Newt,” she said, fighting back panic. “Doctor Geiszler, please-!”

            The lights snapped back on all at once, and Lightcap flinched as several overheated and burst. The Pons generator buzzed loudly to life a second later, and Newt went rigid again.

            “Doctor Lightcap, half the AI’s processors are fried, what do we do?”

            “ _UNPLUG HIM!”_

 _“_ We can’t, it’ll kill him if we pull him out like this, the safeties are disabled!"

            Lightcap stared at Newt, hands pressed tightly against her mouth as he shook in violent seizure.

 

_\--_

Newt crashed to the ground, pain he hadn’t felt since Scunner’s attacks on him washing over him in a crippling wave. The world shifted violently around him and turned into a confusing blur, broken images meshing into a new, unstable landscape. Curled up on his side, blood pooling brightly on the ground, Newt bit back a scream from the fierce, clawing pain. A power surge. How? How had it been able to…?

            Something in the distance gave a long, keening cry. Newt lifted his head up and squinted, trying to see. The walls of the AI were gone completely, and the world Newt saw was shattered. A broken sky he had seen before, memories bleeding one into the other. Ocean waves shot through with sunlight. Rain. Stars, oh God, red, ember-like stars and clouds of gas.

            A hivemind. He’d fallen back into a hivemind. Meathead had been killed years prior; isolated, trapped within itself with no way to reach the network again. It was alive, and oh, God, Lightcap had been wrong. It was a conscious thing.

            The distant thing keened again, and the sound was desperate, lonely, and utterly, utterly mad.

            


	16. Chapter 16

16.

 

 

            “Nope.”

            Newt pushed himself up and started walking as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Pain thudded through him in a steady drumbeat and he simply timed his steps to it, working very hard not to panic about the howling, terrible thing behind him. The cry rose and fell like wind, shrieking and moaning in intervals. It didn’t pause for breath; it didn’t stop at all. Whatever was making it – well, come on now, Newt _knew_ what it was – it couldn’t seem to stop itself from screaming.

            It needed to hear something. It needed to pretend it wasn’t alone.

            Newt resisted the urge to start running. Running would tire him out faster, and anyway there was no place for him to really flee to. The landscape was full of upheavals and deep crevices, unstable and loose as sand beneath him. There was a strange fuzziness to everything as though there was no real sense of depth or distance. The world simply felt _wrong._

_Shit shit shit I’m in trouble I am in so much goddamned trouble what the hell do I do_

The shrieking stuttered and Newt looked over his shoulder, squinting at the blurred horizon. He couldn’t see whatever was screaming, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t see him, and the thought made him shudder. He turned in a full circle on his heel, even looking skyward in case the kaiju was staring down at him. Emptiness stretched in every direction.

 Despite how fiercely the stars burned overhead the world was still lit flatly; Newt was reminded of the dead grey light that gave the hivemind’s projections shape. He paused, chewing absently on his fingernails as he thought. The entire world was wrong, distorted and flat…a projection, _obviously_. And the thing perceived what it built; there was nowhere he could hide. It would find him no matter where he went.

            The shrieking built into a long, piercing howl and Newt started walking again, feeling slightly sick. Maybe it thought he was some kind of hallucination or delusion, and that’s why it hadn’t come looking for him yet. Maybe it didn’t realize what he was or what he’d been doing with its memories in the Drift.

            _Movemovemove don’t let it find you just move don’t look behind you_

The howl wound down into a low, confused sound. Newt felt an icy prickle of realization creep down his spine and he forced himself not to run. It could hear him thinking.

            “This is so stupid,” he whispered to himself, irrationally annoyed. “This isn’t _fair,_ this is so _fucking stupid.”_

He was a little glad Tendo wasn’t with him to see what had happened. He had no idea what was happening to himself outside the Drift. the sense of detachment and disconnect had grown stronger, like he had been cut loose from his body. He didn’t want to consider the possibility that he had died in the chair and whatever was left of him was trapped in this place. Pilots had died in the Drift; Raleigh often mentioned his brother’s presence like it was a ghost haunting the edges of his mind, the sense of it always there.

            “Don’t think about it,” Newt said softly, jumping over a gaping crack in the ground. “You’re not dead. You’re an idiot and you can’t stay out of trouble for five goddamned minutes. You’re not dead, you’re _not. Dead.”_

Gottlieb would be infuriated with him if he died, Newt realized with a strained laugh. He didn’t show grief or anxiety normally most of the time. Hell, he’d almost smothered Newt when he’d found him on the floor after the first kaiju Drift experiment. Only Gottlieb would express terrified concern by nearly hugging someone to death.

            The howling came again and with it came a heavy impression of loneliness, so strong it made Newt stagger. His vision blurred and he made a terrible sound as though trying to choke back a howl of his own.

            “Go away,” he hissed, hands clamped over his ears and eyes screwing shut. “Leave me _alone.”_

The impression grew so unbearable Newt bowed under it as though weighed down, dropping to his knees. The howling filled the air and shook him to the bones, seeping into him.

It knew he was there, it knew he was alive and different and separate, he was _separate,_ he was something _new_ and no no no he couldn’t leave he couldn’t leave it stay stay he had to _stay-!_

Something snapped in Newt’s head and he snarled like a rabid animal, baring his teeth and staggering upright to face the kaiju. The horizons were empty and it just made him angrier that it was hiding.

“I don’t WANT to stay,” he shouted, rage burning through him like poison. “I don’t _CARE_ how lonely you are, _LEAVE ME ALONE!”_

To hell with anything that thought it could try and control him again. Newt was sick of all of it. He was sick of being half-crazy, of hallucinating and waking up screaming every goddamned night. To hell with the kaiju and their masters and the Drift. He was fucking _done._

The loneliness faded into confusion, and then rage so deep and terrible it made Newt’s anger seem like a pale flicker in comparison. Newt realized his mistake too late, just like always. Far, far too late.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he whispered, staring into the horizon.

Something was looking back.

 

\--

 

“ _WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”_

Lightcap was unflinching as Tendo stared at her, looking ready to shove past her and break into the lab.

“ _I_ didn’t do anything,” she said. “There was a system failure. The generator failed in the power surge, it-”

“Failed? FAILED? You’re telling me the _POWER WENT OUT WITH HIM IN THE DRIFT?”_

 _“_ Stop shouting at me,” Lightcap said, so harshly it gave Tendo pause. “ _I did_ _not_ _do anything._ I also happen to outrank you, and if you _ever_ raise your voice to me again I will have you removed from this facility and into the brig faster than you can spit. Clear?”

“Don’t you _dare_ pull rank on me, you-”

“ _Enough!_ ” Lightcap shouted. Tendo visibly shook from the effort it took to silence himself, and he stared at Lightcap fiercely. “We’re trying to get him stable. The AI processors were damaged in the surge, and we’re doing the best we can to get him out of the Drift without hurting him.”

“Permission to speak, ma’am,” Tendo said through gritted teeth. Lightcap eyed him closely, and then nodded. “When you say _get him out of the Drift,_ exactly what do you mean? Why didn’t the surge just kick him out completely?”

“We’re not sure,” Lightcap said. Tendo’s face twitched and he bit hard on his lip to control himself. “The specimen reacted to his presence in…unexpected ways.”

“It’s alive,” Tendo said. “You plugged him into something alive and conscious and it _latched onto him!”_

His self-control was hanging by a thread and Lightcap held a hand up to silence him. Tendo bit at his lip again, so hard he began to draw blood. Disturbing, loud sounds were coming from the door Lightcap was backed against, and she paled at them. Tendo made a tortured noise, moving to push Lightcap out of the way. She stood her ground and he caught himself, backing away a step.

“Let me in,” he said. Lightcap shook her head. “ _Please._ I’m _begging_ you _._ Let me in, let me see him.”

“Family doesn’t join the patient in the operating room,” Lightcap said, voice very quiet. Tendo stared at her, torn between horror and fury. “We’re doing the best we can to get him out again. I wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t be left out entirely.”

            “Fine. You told me, I get it, I’m next of kin. Go back in there and help fucking fix it _,”_ Tendo said, voice cracking. “You and your friends did this. _Fix it.”_

“I will _not_ be made the enemy here, Mister Choi,” Lightcap said sharply, turning away. “Newt isn’t the only one they forced into this project.”

            Tendo flinched at that, trying to reach out and grab her shoulder. The door closed sharply in his face before he could see inside or tell Lightcap he was sorry.

\--

 

            Newt was fleeing, but no matter how far or fast he went the kaiju was still howling behind him, determined to run him down. It was probably manipulating the projection so he was just running in a circle, toying with him before it caught him and…Newt didn’t even want to imagine what it would do. Sane kaiju were malicious enough; a crazy one with nothing but time on its hands would probably be horrifically creative.

            “Go away, go away _go away,”_ he panted, looking over his shoulder. The kaiju was almost fluid, a belligerent shadow that shifted from one half-solid shape to the next. Meathead had become Hundun, Hundun had become Hardship, Hardship had become Karloff. Again and again it changed, a ghost screaming at his heels.

            There was nowhere to hide, and Newt was tiring out. He knew he wasn’t really running, that there was no reason why he should be winded and exhausted, but the piercing pain of the stitch in his side felt real enough to slow him down. The kaiju howled behind him again, and Newt suddenly fell, the ground tripping him up. He slid down a steep, uneven slope and immediately tried to push himself up again, but the ground was finer than sand and gave way under his hands.

            Winded and terrified, Newt rolled over and pressed himself against the slope, trying to hide. The kaiju would be on top of him in moments; he had to run. He had to get up, to move, to do _something._

The ground he had pushed through was opening up like waiting jaws. Newt stared at it as it widened, big enough to hide a person if they didn’t mind being buried alive.

            The kaiju howled somewhere very close above him.

            The crack gaped.

            “I am such a idiot,” Newt said, army-crawling towards the crack. He stared down into it; it was completely dark inside and unfathomably deep. “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna _die.”_

God, let him have a break. Let it be somewhere he could hide, somewhere safe. He bent his entire mind desperately on the thought. Let it be somewhere safe.

By the time the kaiju had leaped down the slope, Newt was already falling.

 

\--

 

            It was the feeling of sunlight on his face that woke him, though he didn’t open his eyes. Newt groaned softly at the pounding pain in his head and the battered protests of his body as he rolled over onto his back. How long had he been out? A minute? Hours? The sun was warm and he could have sworn he felt a breeze.

            _Let it have been a nightmare. Let me be awake, let me be somewhere else._

            Newt opened his eyes and stared at a familiar ceiling. The overhead lamp was bright and steady, a faint water stain blooming from the fixture. The floor under him was scuffed, creaking wood, and the breeze from the open window beside him carried in a faint odor of engine exhaust from the street.

            Newt pushed himself up slowly, looking around in disbelief. Either he was getting better at running blind through the Drift, or he had actually willed himself into the memory of his old Boston apartment. With a sharp, hysterical laugh he collapsed back onto the floor and lay there, too exhausted to move. He could hear indistinct voices and muffled patterns of music outside.

            It would be terribly easy to just lie here and wait for himself to slip into memory entirely. Chasing the rabbit seemed like the best way to hide; if he were trapped in his own mind, maybe the kaiju wouldn’t be able to pursue him. It was an appealing thought. A stupid one, but appealing.

            “Get up, idiot,” Newt muttered. “C’mon.”

            He forced himself to roll over, grabbing at the windowsill and pulling himself up. The street outside was blurry and unfocused, the tree outside his window merely dark streaks of trunk and branches clouded with green and yellow smears for leaves. The apartment was the only thing that felt true to memory, including how the window stuck when Newt tried to close it. He struggled with it for a second and then turned away with an irritated curse, nearly jumping out of his skin when it came unstuck and slammed shut on its own, just like the real one always had.

            He was in his old bedroom and it looked like a disaster area, just like always. Half-finished work piled up on his desk and spilled over onto the floor and his nightstand, piles of books and papers taking up every available surface. Newt sat heavily on the edge of his bed, pulling a blanket around his shoulders.

The real apartment was still in his name, all his belongings in storage. He should have just taken Gottlieb up on the offer to leave. He might have liked Boston; Newt could have gone back to MIT, and Gottlieb would probably have had every university in town throwing themselves at his feet begging him to come teach for them.

            He should have just thrown the letter away as soon as Herc gave it to him.

            “Coulda, woulda, shoulda. _Jesus_ , Newton, shut up…”

            Newt slid off the bed and wrapped the blanket around him like a cloak, wandering out into the apartment. Sunlight spilled in through the open windows but it was disturbing to look outside, and Newt found himself creeping through the apartment slowly as though afraid it would break apart around him. The noise outside felt almost treacherous, like it was hiding any sound the kaiju might make. Newt paused by the window behind his old rabbit-eared TV, straining to hear over the sound of traffic. No screaming, no howling. It’d be hard to miss that kind of racket.

            The breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding slipped out in a long, relieved sigh. For the moment at least he was safe; maybe he really _could_ hide out here until…well. Until _something_ happened. He had picked a very strange time to start trusting Lightcap, but if there was anyone who could drag him out of this, she could. Probably.

            Hopefully.

            The pain thudding in his temples was becoming distracting, and Newt rubbed wearily at his eyes. The nosebleed had stopped at least, but the dried streak of it was itching madly. Newt threw the blanket off and picked his way through the scattered junk to the bathroom, searching reflexively for the light switch. It didn’t turn on when he flipped it, and he sighed, pawing at it for a moment before giving up. The tap worked, spluttering out an icy stream. Newt cupped the water in his hands and splashed it on his face, cleaning off the blood. It had dried in a vivid blue streak and stained the sink as he scrubbed it off, smelling faintly of ammonia.

            Newt sighed again, watching it swirl down the drain before looking up at the mirror, taking in the sight of himself. He looked pale and sick, dark circles under his eyes. He had been avoiding mirrors since the hallucination in his hotel room, and couldn’t help but wonder if the exhausted face staring back at him was what everyone else saw. The more he looked at himself, the less it felt like it was his own face he was staring at; if he angled his head just the right way, his pupils reflected cold blue light, like the eyes of an animal in the dark…

            A fresh, bright trickle of blood ran from his nose but Newt was indifferent to it. It burned over his lips and dripped into the sink in fat droplets, the smell of ammonia growing stronger. He licked his lips reflexively, leaning over the sink and staring at himself in detached fascination. He looked so _weak._ He didn’t _feel_ weak. He felt incomplete; yes…that was the difference. The cold light flickered in his eyes as he studied himself, and he bared his teeth in a grimace. Blood spilled down his face and streaked across his teeth, and he grinned viciously. There, that was a little better. He looked like he could actually do _damage_ now, like he was something to be afraid of.

            Pain pounded in his head but Newt couldn’t quite feel it anymore, too distracted to pay attention. Who cared about pain? He was a fucking _monster._ Pain meant nothing to him. It never meant anything at all. Pain mattered to things he could crush and grind into the dust.

            Strings of bloodied spit oozed down Newt’s chin and he slowly cocked his head to one side as he stared at himself, grin growing. Sure, he was incomplete. Something was missing. But damn it all, he felt pretty _good_ right now. What had he even been scared of? Something screaming after him, chasing him…strange, he could barely remember. It was getting hard to think straight at all, actually.

            The dead light of his eyes seemed much brighter all of a sudden. A soft, sick croak scratched its way out of Newt’s throat and he shuddered at the sound of it, the grin fading. He couldn’t remember what he’d been scared of, or where he was, or why he was there…

            He slowly realized he couldn’t remember _himself._

            The vicious pleasure faded into confusion. He backed away from the sink and into the wall, head thumping against it sharply. He didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t remember. Something was staring at him and he didn’t recognize it, didn’t know it, what was happening he didn’t _understand_

            _whatamIwhatamIwhat ‘s happening to m e_

The noise outside suddenly fell flat. Newt blinked confusedly and crept out of the bathroom like a spooked animal, looking for the threat.

 

            _Wherewhere where wa i t homehome this is   home this is home Boston apartment_

_Nononono no I remember I remember this this isn’t real none of it’s real I’m in the Drift snap out of it you idiot wake up_

The pain drove through his head like a railroad spike and Newt gasped, staggering against the wall and sliding down to the floor. Blood dripped onto the floor in fat red drops, and he shuddered violently as the wave of pain passed. He opened his eyes and his vision was blurred, and Newt blinked frightened tears away before he could fall apart completely.

            He wiped frantically at his face with his sleeve, cleaning off spit and blood. He’d had some disturbing episodes the past few weeks, but _that_ …he shook himself hard. No. Now wasn’t the time.

            The noise of traffic and voices didn’t come back, and Newt realized the sunlight had faded away. The night sky burned outside his windows, vivid red stars scattered in constellations he didn’t recognize.

            “Ah, _shit.”_

Something keened long and low in the distance. He’d stayed in one place too long, he’d let himself slip and practically shout out where he was. Chasing the rabbit in this place meant losing what grip Newt had left on his sanity, and why wouldn’t that be like a beacon in the dark to the kaiju hunting him?

            The keening came again, closer this time.

            There was nowhere for him to go. Newt eyed the apartment door, considering his options. Hide or run? Neither one would do any good, but…

            “Screw it.”

            He vaulted over a pile of books and went for the door, pulling it open. The world was shattered outside, a twisting mix of his memories distorted by the kaiju’s perception. Warped buildings towered, hybridized with the organic, insect-like structures of the Anteverse. The effect was so unsettling Newt tried at once to duck back into the apartment, but he stumbled and fell onto sandy, uneven ground.

            The kaiju was a dark shape against the burning sky, eyes fixed on Newt as he rolled to his feet and started to run.  


	17. Chapter 17

17.

 

            The air smelled like smoke. Newt’s lungs were burning as he ran, dodging from one twisted, unnatural building to the next, feeling dust clogging his throat. The kaiju wasn’t running after him. It knew where he was and it had begun to follow him slowly, taking its time to stalk him. The streets were warped and turned on themselves, and more than once Newt found himself doubling back the way he’d come before.

The entire city was a nightmarish perversion of several places he’d lived before; Boston, Hong Kong, even a bit of Berlin just to twist the knife a bit more. Places and landmarks he knew had been contaminated with chitinous pillars and platforms. Despite the panic and exhaustion dragging him down, Newt couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Earth would look like if the invaders had succeeded in their colonization; taking over the ruins and building on top of them, spreading like a cancer over human civilization.

The kaiju moaned and howled somewhere behind him. Newt ducked into an alleyway and sank down to the ground, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. It didn’t seem particularly fair that even in abstract headspace he was still a bit out of shape- at least in dreams he could run without wanting to drop to the ground and die. Wiping sweat out of his eyes and leaning back against the wall, Newt stared up at the sky. There were no broken shards of memory to make it a patchwork; the Anteverse’s hellish field of stars and gases stretched as far as he could see.

It was interesting. Newt couldn’t help but find it fascinating; the kaiju had built an entire world to hide in, shielding what was left of its mind with memories of home.

They always wanted to go home in the end. Scunner had died screaming for it. The Anteverse was an inhospitable place, but it was the point of origin for the kaiju. Dying so far away from it was a terrible, lonely thing. Newt almost couldn’t blame the kaiju for sinking into delusion and building a false world for itself; better to endure in denial than face the fact that it was a prisoner within itself.

The howls had turned to low, predatory growls. Newt rose slowly, hunched over and watchful as the kaiju’s long, shapeless shadow cast over the street at the mouth of the alley. He looked behind him, searching for an escape route. The alley tapered into a long, dark corridor, buildings pressing together tightly. Newt felt a jab of apprehension just looking at the space; he would have to go in sideways and shuffle towards the tiny opening on the other side.

The growls grew louder, and Newt could hear the kaiju sniffing around for him like a hound. He crept towards the corridor, pressing his back against one wall and closing his eyes tightly as he forced himself to move. The brickwork turned to icy, chitinous metal against his back as he went along, scraping roughly at him and catching his clothes. His panicked breathing was all he could hear, one sharp, smothered gasp after another. His mouth was dry and the taste of ammonia and smoke was heavy on his tongue, and he resisted the urge to gag. He shuffled step by slow step for what felt like an eternity, the corridor growing so tight midway through that the opposite wall was scraping up against his chest and he couldn’t turn his head.

            He stopped moving, feeling as though the buildings would shift at any moment and crush him. He had never considered himself claustrophobic before, but now the fear of being smothered and crushed was beginning to overwhelm him. He didn’t dare open his eyes, unable to bear seeing the opposite wall inches away from his face. The kaiju was growling and sniffing around at the mouth of the alleyway, the pitching, unsteady sound echoing into the corridor. It knew he was there and it knew what he was trying to do. It had driven him to ground like a fox and now it was waiting for him to panic and go back the way he came.

            Newt swallowed hard and forced himself to keep moving forward. The corridor pinched together so tightly he could barely move, and finally he opened his eyes. The opening at the opposite end was barely big enough to pass through, and he struggled through it painfully. He landed hard on the ground when he finally wrenched himself free, scraped and bleeding into the dust. He bit back a hysterical laugh that was half a sob, taking in deep breaths to calm himself down.

            There was a sound of crunching bricks and groaning metal above him, and Newt looked up to see the kaiju crawling atop the buildings’ rooftops, watching him with half-lucid curiosity. Bitter frustration made Newt want to scream, and he pushed himself up and bolted. The kaiju leaped down from the roofs and landed hard on the street, the bone-shaking reverberation making Newt stumble. It crept after him, body shifting from one distorted shape to another, crashing thoughtlessly into buildings and leaving impassable debris in its wake.

            Newt dodged through the streets towards a maze-like stand of concrete and chitin columns that were trying to look like a flyover overpass. The road twisted over and through the columns so steeply Newt couldn’t hope to climb it without being spotted. The only other option was to go into the stand of columns and hope the kaiju wouldn’t knock them down on top of him; there was no turning around.

            The kaiju screeched as he ran under the overpass, ducking out of sight. The columns were dense and oddly placed, and Newt felt like he was wandering through a dead forest. The overpass was high above him; if the kaiju climbed it, it would have a long way to fall. The ground had turned swampy and hard to walk through, and when Newt stooped to touch it his hand came away wet and smelling strongly of brine. He made a disgusted noise and wiped it off on his pants, walking as quietly as he could and trying not to splash in the growing puddles and pools. Cold, damp wind moaned through the columns and seemed to blow right through him, and he started to shiver.

            He looked over his shoulder frequently, trying to gauge where the kaiju was and if it could see him. It paced outside the overpass, sometimes trying to worm its way between pillars and getting stuck, having to reshape itself over and over again to get loose. Newt felt a bit of vindictive pleasure at that; seems like he wasn’t the only one that had a bit of claustrophobia.

            He stumbled and sunk knee-deep into the cold, gritty mire, and he bit back the curses that wanted to explode out of him. The water had a strange, thick sliminess to it, and he felt nauseated at its touch. Everything was so warped and wrong through the kaiju’s perception; no wonder Newt had started to lose his grip back in the Drift-memory of his apartment. He could feel it at the edge of his mind, biting at his sanity. He’d let it in for a moment and had almost lost himself completely.

            God, he wanted to go _home_. He missed his friends, his lab, his work.

He missed Gottlieb so much it felt like a wound.

He’d never let Newt hear the end of it, if he survived this; _I told you so you imbecile, you should never have gone mucking about with those wretched things to begin with. Look at what you do, every bloody time I leave you alone for five minutes-!_

Newt pressed a hand sharply to his mouth to stifle the laugh he’d startled out of himself. He could practically hear Gottlieb shouting and it lifted his spirits unexpectedly. Everyone had been so nice and careful around him for so long he’d gotten to miss being bossed around and shouted at. He hadn’t had a really good argument in _weeks._

Newt pulled himself free of the pool at last, hoisting himself up onto the edge and resting. The kaiju was still pawing and pacing outside, but he just couldn’t make himself care at the moment. The world was silhouetted in flat shades of black and grey, and he could see splinters of the sky overhead through breaks in the columns. He let himself fall back and just laid there for a moment, watching veils of red and orange gases pass overhead like clouds.

Why couldn’t they have just stayed in their own world? What was so incredibly valuable about Earth that the kaijus masters had to break open the Anteverse and bleed through into this one? Newt couldn’t wrap his head around it. In all the time it had taken humans to evolve as a species, as a _civilization,_ why couldn’t the aliens have found some other world to settle on? The universe was supposed to be endless. One species just couldn’t have swept through an entire expanse of worlds without learning how to sustain itself. It didn’t make sense. It was impossible.

Newt pushed himself up, nose wrinkling at the feel of mud clinging to his clothes. He stank like sweat and brine, he was wet, he was cold, and he just wanted to crawl into a corner and sleep.

He forced himself to stand, sighing deeply. No one was going to help him here, and complaining to himself wasn’t going to do anything. Better to just keep going forward and hoping for the best. He glanced over his shoulder again and felt his heart drop into his stomach.

The kaiju was gone.

            The wind still sighed through the columns, but Newt couldn’t hear anything else. No screaming or shrieking, no gnashing teeth or claws scraping at chitin and concrete. There was no way it would simply give up and leave. It knew where he was and it had chased him this far. It might have been crazy, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t intelligent.

            “Shit,” Newt whispered. He looked around, fighting off reflexive panic. He had to stay calm and keep moving. But how could something that big just _disappear?_ Okay. Okay, he could do this. He took in a deep breath and started to walk. Keeping forward, that was the best plan. The columns were thinner on the far side, the landscape morphing back into the ugly amalgam of buildings and chitin. Plenty of places to hide out that offered more shelter.

            The ground, already swampy and sucking him down with every step, gave way completely into another pool. Newt couldn’t stop himself from shouting in alarm as he plunged in up to his chest, splashing noisily. The cold wind cut through him like a knife and he swam slowly to the pool’s edge, pulling himself up as quietly as he could.

            Well, so much for being cunning and careful not to be heard. Newt thumped his head against the ground in weary frustration before getting up again and spitting out a mouthful of water. At least the taste of disgusting standing water had washed out the lingering ammonia. He squinted in the dark, slowly picking out a path between the pools. What was all this water even _doing_ here, anyway? The only water inland he remembered in Boston was the…

            “Oh, Jesus, don’t even _tell me_ I fell in the Charles,” Newt moaned softly. Drift-construct or not, nobody touched the Charles River without a hazmat suit. And he’d _swallowed_ some of it. Christ, things just kept getting worse.

            “I hate my life,” Newt muttered, spitting again vehemently. “I hate this, _I hate everything.”_

Wringing the disgusting water out of his shirttail, Newt shivered and cursed. At least the wind had died down. The sound of it was enough to drive him-

            Newt’s head swung up and he went very still, looking around with wide eyes. The wind was gone. Just like when the kaiju had found him before, the noise of the world had gone flat and silent. Softly, so softly, he could hear something breathing. Deliberate steps muffled by mud and mire crept behind him, scraping past the dense columns.

            He couldn’t run; the ground was too unstable. Newt didn’t look behind him, taking a zig-zagging path as quickly as he dared, fleeing towards the columns where they were thickest. He tripped a few times and fell, rolling quickly to his feet and ducking into the shadows the columns cast. He crouched in the dark, pressing a hand against his face to smother the sound of his breathing. The kaiju was smoke and vapor, twisting around the columns and following his trail. It held no solid shape for more than a few seconds; Meathead sniffed at the ground and its head rose up as Scissure, shifting to Karloff as it crept forward.

            Newt quickly ducked into the shadows again and made himself as small as possible, barely breathing as Karloff’s too-wide eyes stared towards the stand of columns. It was the same small group of kaiju every time the hivemind shifted; Hundun, Hardship, Karloff, Meathead. All the earliest kaiju from the beginning years of the war. Scissure was a new addition, and he hadn’t seen Trespasser or Kaiceph yet…it was as though the hivemind was an earlier version, missing the later aspects of itself.

            Hot, stinking breath blew through the columns as Karloff paused outside, a faint wet growl rattling in its throat. Newt stayed perfectly still, hand clamped so tightly across his mouth and nose he couldn’t breathe. Karloff’s thin, spindly hand raked at the ground at his right side, enormous claws dragging deep gouges into the earth. Newt watched wide-eyed, starting to shake. The other hand started digging and clawing at his left side, and Newt bit his tongue hard to keep silent. The son of a bitch was trying to flush him out into the open. He closed his eyes and ducked his head down, refusing to look.

            The sound of wet scraping stopped after a moment and Newt looked up slowly, blinking cold sweat out of his eyes and shakily readjusting his glasses. The meaty, ammonia-tainted stink of Karloff’s breath had faded as it moved on, creeping further into the dark. Newt stood slowly, looking around the column again. It had disappeared. He turned away and walked forward, weak with relief. Maybe if he was clever about it he could get to the next stand of buildings and-

            He walked into something warm and horribly half-solid, flesh malleable as wet clay. Newt made a strangled sound and wrenched away from it, falling to the ground and pushing himself across it to back up against the column. Hundun crawled on its belly towards him, body squeezing and slithering through the tight spaces.

            “No,” Newt said, voice a thread. “ _No._ ”

            Hundun’s lips skinned back from its teeth in a grimace, saliva hanging in long, thick ropes from its jaws. It sniffed at him once and suddenly bayed deeply, the sound of it so loud Newt clapped his hands to his ears and cringed away. It immediately quieted, cutting the howl off into a strange choked gurgle. It crawled forwards a little further, eyes staring unblinking at him.

            “Get away from me,” Newt said, so weakly he could barely hear himself. The sense of the kaiju’s mind was a numbing fog against his own, its insanity scratching up against him. “Please, just leave me alone.”

            Hundun shivered subtly into Hardship, and it coiled around the column, encircling Newt with its body and penning him in. It wouldn’t stop staring at him. The anger he’d provoked was gone, at least – all it was, was _curious._

            “Fine,” Newt said, flinching away from Hardship’s talons as it reached out to touch him. “You caught me. I get it. What the hell do you _want?”_

It stayed quiet, simply staring. Its talons clawed unconsciously at the ground, making trenches that quickly filled with water. Try as he might Newt couldn’t sense any kind of malice in it; it was curious, and it was interested in him. Maybe the sheer novelty of having another living thing to interact with was taming it for a moment. Newt swallowed hard, trying to ignore how its mind brushed so invasively against the borders of his own, and slowly put his hand on one of its talons. It went very still, eyes widening painfully and pupils constricting to tight slits. Newt snatched his hand away at once.

            “Sorry,” he said quickly. Hardship gave a hiss, pawing at the ground violently but making no move to attack him. Newt stared at it in bafflement and it shrieked, body shaking violently. Newt reached out at once and put both hands on its arm and it fell silent, soothed out of its tantrum.

            “Okay,” he said softly, like he was talking to a scared animal. “Hey, it’s okay. Easy, easy…”

            Hardship shivered and its eyes closed, body twisting into Karloff once more. The craziness was a little easier to see in its rough face; the way its mouth moved as though talking silently to itself, its eyes bugged and unblinking. Newt had always thought Karloff looked roughly human, in a way; a monstrous caricature of the people it was attacking.

            “You’re okay,” Newt said, running a hand across the weathered, hard skin of its face. It sighed, the disgusting stench of its breath hitting Newt across the face. He fought not to gag, keeping himself carefully neutral as it stared at him. “Not mad at me anymore?”

            Karloff gave a long, deep croak, resting its head down on the ground and all its eyes opening to watch him. Newt felt himself relax, just a little. It had hunted him down and now it was acting like an attention-starved dog, desperate for contact. If he kept it calm, maybe when Lightcap fished him out of the Drift he’d come out of it more or less intact.

            _Driftdriftdrift drift hive?hivehivehivehive_

Newt froze, slowly drawing away from Karloff. It was watching him intensely, its mind pressing up against his.

            “Stop,” he hissed, backing away. “You… _no._ You’re not- _stop it!”_

Karloff shifted and rose, creeping after Newt as he backed away, hands clutching at his head. He closed his eyes reflexively and the pressure seemed to grow worse, the hivemind scratching and pushing at him. It wanted to see what he was. It wanted to know what he was, what he was thinking, it could hear him and it wanted it wanted _it wanted_

_Insideinsideinside learn study kill?kill? study? Nononononononono new new new find new  k a   iju what is what is kai  ju kaiju selfselfself hive kaiju self_

Its mind flooded through him and Newt stumbled to the ground, curling up on his side and starting to shake. It was so lonely it was so tired yes yes he should let it in it just for a minute it needed it wanted no no no stop please just leave him alone-!

            Karloff twisted sinuously into Meathead, horns scraping at the ground as it lowered its head over Newt, looming protectively. He was insensible to it, smothered by its mind as it rooted through his. The sense of violation that radiated from him was ignored. Interesting, so interesting, so _alive._

            It shuddered fearfully as it sensed the tattered, dead bonds that still slithered against Newt’s consciousness. It sifted through them like pages of a book, trying to understand. Dead? Dead? How? Why?

 

            _Stopitstopit let me go please let go stop go away don’t touch me stop let me go_

Meathead ignored him, pulling and yanking at the bonds. Newt cried out in pain but it didn’t care. Why? Why were they dead? It didn’t _want_ them to be dead. It couldn’t connect with dead links; where was the rest of itself? Where was the hive?

 

            _Deaddeaddead they’re gone they died you’re hurting me let go_

            With an anguished snarl, Meathead thrashed its body and struck out against the columns, smashing metal and concrete to vent its frustration. Dead, dead, all of them _dead!_ Unfair, unfair, it was still all alone, and there was no- wait. _Wait._

            It paused, digging and clawing at Newt’s mind, heedless to the strangled shout of pain it caused. A living bond. It was hidden in the tangled mess of dead links, something bright and alive and…

            _Nonononononono leave it alone it’s not what you think stop stop stop don’t don’t  just leave it ALONE DON’T TOUCH IT **LEAVE IT ALONE**_

How fragile it seemed compared to the bonds of the hive. A thin thread of connection, but oh, it was _alive._ Meathead seized at it, trying to connect. It felt wrong. It felt weak and small, just like the thing fighting not to scream on the ground beneath it. But it was alive, and that was all that mattered.

            With all the strength it had, Meathead latched onto Newt’s Drift bond with Gottlieb, and _pulled._


	18. Chapter 18

18.

 

 

            Her newest name was Liang Xue Shé, and it was a private joke only Tendo would appreciate. The Los Angeles Shatterdome proved to be more of a mess than the Hong Kong establishment and she had to force herself not to turn her nose up at the sheer disorganization of it all. The Jaeger bay was teeming with mechanics, engineers and who knew what else, swarming over the skeletons they had dug up from Oblivion Bay. Liang supposed she should feel hopeful or proud of the way people were still pulling together even now, but she couldn’t muster it.  

            The wig itched abominably under her PPDC cap, and the fake glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose. A bit of makeup, a coverall suit a size too big, and an attitude that kept her eyes downcast and shoulders hunched had turned her into just another Corps mouse, scurrying along on business and not trying to bother anyone.

            She had already had a few close calls with the Marshall, having to back off his trail before he could discover her. He had gotten suspicious after Chau’s visit in London and trailing him had been less about stealth and more about hoping to avoid being kicked into oncoming traffic if she was found out. Liang hadn’t been able to tease out the whole meaning behind the explosive phone call with Gottlieb – or _Hermann,_ good _Lord_ that was a rather unfortunate name – only that they had name-dropped Doctor Geiszler a few times, then Tendo, then something about a place called Pitcairn Island and a lot more infuriated cursing than Liang had thought able to come out of one man’s mouth.

            Following from London had been trying. The Marshall had taken a PPDC plane and Liang was not much for flying, and the plane had been rocked so severely by turbulence halfway over the ocean she had genuinely thought she was going to die. The lights hadn’t come on for almost five minutes after the plane steadied, and there had been a faint, unpleasant whine to the engines that lasted the rest of the flight.

            But she was where she needed to be now, and put a good distance between herself and her employer. The meanstreak that ran through Chau a mile wide was getting more noticeable by the day, and Liang had no desire to be around when someone finally set him off. No one liked to see their business tank out from under them, but Chau hadn’t expected to survive the war. Extravagant living took a toll when you burned through money as fast as you could make it.

            She hoped she wouldn’t have to lurk too long in the Shatterdome. Set up a few more contacts just like in Hong Kong, place a bug or two in areas of interest. Hell, if she found Marshall Hansen’s office before anyone noticed her she could probably be out in the city hunting up something more interesting to do before dark.

            It had to be admitted, though. Liang rather liked the PPDC. Everyone was scuttling about like they were the most important person in the whole place, helping out with assignments or construction or cleanup. It wasn’t like Chau’s operation. He ruled with an iron fist, and the minute you screwed up you were removed. Simply kicked out or more permanently disposed of, Liang had never known, and she had been smart enough not to ask. The fact that Herc was still alive after punching Chau was rather astonishing to her.

            The lights buzzed and dulled to a glow so faint they seemed ready to die completely. Liang paused, looking up and watching them struggle. Hong Kong, London, Los Angeles, and a dozen places in-between…it didn’t make sense. Power surges didn’t roll across entire continents. She hated herself a little for flinching when the power clawed its way back to normal, the sudden brightness hurting her eyes. Other people around her were looking around just as uncomfortably; the surges had been becoming more frequent, and it was taking longer for the systems to recover.

            Ducking her head carefully as a pair of guards walked past, Liang stuck her hand in her pocket and checked for the bug. Something simple, hard to find, and easily replaced if discovered; all she had to do was slip it into the vidcall console and it would record every call Herc made. Perfect fodder for research…or blackmail, depending on what kind of Marshall Herc turned out to be. Pentecost had been so clean he practically squeaked. Chau hadn’t been able to stand him, but Liang had liked him.

            She toyed with the bug for a moment, considering. Her moral compass was aligned with her own interests, and it had been that way for a long time. Too much had been seen, and too much had been done. The war had turned her into a different breed of monster but it had never really bothered her before; she worked for a cockroach and it had kept her alive and…contented, at least. She cast a look around at the people milling past her and suddenly felt very alone. They had their place in the world and they were working to keep it that way. She was just doing someone else’s bidding.

            Liang slipped her hand out of her pocket. She had already established a few good contacts in the days since she’d arrived. Maybe Chau wouldn’t fault her with working slow if she took longer than expected with the rest of it.

            And after watching Chrome Brutus take a few experimental steps the day before, Liang realized she’d already drawn a line at sabotage. She wrinkled her nose and stifled a disgusted sound. She’d started to feel less and less fond of her work the past weeks, starting the night she’d fled for her life from Otachi’s disgusting newborn. She hadn’t minded leaving Chau and Geiszler behind to die, and she had to admit to herself it had felt rather freeing to see it _eat_ her employer. The man really was a cockroach, though. Not even being eaten alive by a kaiju seemed to phase him much.

            The lights had shuddered into another brownout as Liang dawdled in the mazelike corridors, considering what to do. Herc’s office had been settled down the corridor to her left. Straight ahead was the barracks, and to the right were the laboratories. If she turned back she could scope out the new LOCCENT, maybe even leave a few things to pester Tendo with when he finally showed up… _that_ was certainly tempting.

            Toying with the bug again as though trying to decide whether to crush it or not, Liang turned to the right-hand corridor and walked. She had missed out on the violent argument that had broken out between Gottlieb and the Marshall when Herc had arrived, but people had been talking about it for days. Most mentioned how close they had come to blows towards the end of it before they were separated. He certainly sounded interesting; Liang had shared Chau’s impression that Gottlieb was a callous, number-crunching grub, something they dragged out into the light of day once in a while to make sure he was still alive before tossing him back into the labs.

 Maybe she could just…peek into the laboratory first, to see if there was anything worth sneaking a look at or taking before she decided what to do about the Marshall. Maybe it wouldn’t even be worth the trouble if she could find something interesting.

            Maybe.

 

\--

 

            Something was wrong.

            Gottlieb had felt off all day. Bad enough that he hadn’t gotten any kind of decent rest for over a week, half-sickened from anxiety for Newt, but throw in the row he had had with Herc and he felt ready to crawl into a corner and hide. Both of them had said terrible things towards the end and Gottlieb was honestly astounded that he hadn’t received some kind of write-up or discipline for the sheer cruel insubordination.

Instead Herc had been studiously avoiding him, as well as practically everyone else; Gottlieb understood Newt’s depression after being ostracized in Hong Kong a little better now. It was difficult to get through the day when no one wanted to look you in the eye.

            Mako and Raleigh had been the only real company he had left, but they were so frequently busy with the Jaeger restorations it was almost pointless to seek them out. Chrome Brutus was nearly halfway restored already; Mako was being rather merciless with how she handled the mechanic crews, and the work on it was ceaseless.

             Gottlieb sat hunched at his desk, rubbing at his temples in exhaustion. He felt wrong inside, like…almost as though something was trying to bite at the edges of his senses. He couldn’t think of another way to put it. It had started almost an hour ago, building on the misery of his anxiety and exhaustion. A headache was thudding cruelly in his temples – was it a headache, really?

            He simply felt _sick_ , and it was worsening by the minute. His breath rasped and Gottlieb found himself shivering. Pain spiked through his head and settled in a knot behind his right eye, pounding in time to his heartbeat.

            Something was _very_ wrong.

            Sweat beaded Gottlieb’s face and through the sickness he felt a new, cold fear worming through him. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He put a hand to his chest and tried to take in a deep breath, but he found he couldn’t. He pushed away from the desk and grasped blindly for his cane. It clattered loudly to the floor and he hissed out curses, hunching over in his chair so that his head nearly met his knees, arms wrapping around himself. It hurt. God, why did it _hurt?_  

            Gottlieb made a strangled sound, trying to straighten. He had gone cold to the marrow and he shivered more violently from it. The headache had sharpened agonizingly; it felt as though someone were trying to yank something out the back of his head, an unrelenting, terrible _pulling_ that made him want to scream. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it _hurt-!_

            A hot streak of blood ran from his nose and splattered to the floor. A taste of bile filled his mouth sharp and acidic, and he spit reflexively. It burned his lips and a biting stench made him recoil.

            No…

            Not bile…

            _Ammonia._

Gottlieb slid out of the chair and onto his hands and knees. The pull came again and his head jerked back, and he cried out from the pain of it, eyes squeezing shut. If it didn’t let go it was going to rip something out of him, couldn’t it understand that? Make it let go, make it stop, it was hurting him and it didn’t understand why wouldn’t it just

 

    let

 

                        _go_

            _letgoletgoletgo stop let go you’re killing him le t  g o I’mbeggingyou_

            The shivering began to ease and Gottlieb felt the slightest bit of slack give way in his head, like an uncertain hand starting to loosen on a leash. He coughed and spit again, panic settling into fearful confusion. He felt cold. Freezing, really. The wind was cutting through him-

Wind?

Gottlieb forced his eyes open. A haggard reflection, bloodied and sweat-drenched, stared at him in a puddle of grey water.

            “What…?”

            The word was a croak, his voice caught in a constricted throat. The world had gone flat, grey and black shapes all he could see through the blur of pain. Overhead the sky was warped and burning, and Gottlieb made a choked sound. It was the _Anteverse’s_ sky.

            No. No. Absolutely _not_. This was a hallucination. He had collapsed and now something was twisting his perceptions; a fever. Yes, it was a fever. That was _all._

            He pushed himself up, grunting in disgust as his hands sank into gritty, stinking mud. The sharp tang of brine and an edge of rot made his stomach turn, and Gottlieb sat back on his heels hoping he wouldn’t vomit. For a hallucination, it was certainly very vivid.

            Maybe he was having a stroke. Seemed to be about the kind of luck he’d have lately.

            “Come along, Hermann,” he muttered hoarsely to himself, standing slowly. “Pull yourself together.”

            His bad leg buckled out from under him and he staggered, the swampy ground giving way beneath him. Fetid water soaked into his clothes and he spat out a bit that had splashed into his mouth, repulsed.

            “Now what?”

            His cane had, quite unhelpfully, not followed him along into the hallucination. He supposed he could crawl, but where to? As his vision cleared he realized the world was not as flat and empty as he had first thought. Buildings decayed and fell apart around him, collapsing like dried-out husks into dust and debris. Gottlieb wondered briefly at the destruction. It felt as though a slate was slowly being washed clean…or maybe that it was simply fading away.

            “Get up,” he said. “Get _up._ ”

            He wouldn’t crawl. He refused. It hurt as he forced himself up, but everything else still hurt- what was another bit of pain? He’d just take it one step at a time. His bad leg dragged through the mire and Gottlieb grit his teeth, holding himself up stiffly and hobbling towards a cracked strip of dry ground. He rested for a moment as he wrenched free of the sucking mud. The ground was gravelly and broken, and he nudged a loose scrap of it. It looked like tarmac.

            “A road?”

            Gottlieb looked around again, ignoring how the sky shifted and burned. The decaying buildings were an almost obscene crossbreeding of human and insect-like architecture, creating a silent and empty city.

            And it _was_ silent. Even the wind had gone flat. Gottlieb felt very small and vulnerable, hunching as though trying to hide as he cast another look around. His little strip of road was an island in the middle of a swamp, and he dreaded the thought of trying to struggle through it again. Maybe he should simply stay put until the hallucination passed.

            He hadn’t been able to call for help before he’d collapsed. He shuddered, wondering if anyone would find him. He had isolated himself so completely he might not be discovered for hours. Surely Raleigh or Mako would drop into the lab at some point…

            “Well, _shit.”_

            Several other curses were trying to escape but Gottlieb bit his tongue against them. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he started to hobble again. His leg dragged and tears sprang to his eyes, the pain combining with the terrible ache in his head to bleed into him entirely, setting every nerve on fire.

            He couldn’t do it. He had to stay put, at least for the moment.

            Gottlieb eased himself down to the ground and wiped irritably at his eyes. The fire eased, though through the ache in his head the pull was gaining strength again. He flinched at each furtive tug; it was like something was experimenting with his reaction, trying to understand why it was hurting him. He rubbed at the back of his head, wincing at the pain the pressure caused.

            He sat on the cold, dusty ground and realized that he was very frightened.

            Gottlieb looked up at the sky to distract himself. Curtains of nebulous gases streaked across it, twisting in violent winds. The stars burned fiercely but the light of them didn’t touch the rest of the world. He couldn’t find it in himself to call them beautiful. It was the night sky one would think to see in hell.

            Something keened in the distance and echoed through the city, but Gottlieb ignored it. Probably just the wind picking up; he certainly felt cold again. Cold, scared, and very, very tired. The pain was exhausting him. Gottlieb gave himself a hard shake, trying to clear the fog gathering at the edge of his senses. Was he losing consciousness? What would happen to him if he blacked out?

            “Get up,” he hissed to himself. “Get _up,_ you idiot.”

            He willed himself to move but his body seemed disinclined to listen.  Gottlieb made a struggling sound, the pull seeming to tether him down to the ground, pain worming through him to keep him docile. Panic began to beat against the fog and Gottlieb rolled halfway to his feet before he staggered again, falling hard on his knees in sudden dizziness. The keening carried through the ruins again, closer this time, but he couldn’t tell which direction it came from.

 

            _Nonononono leave it leave h im pleaseplease I’m here enough you don’t need  both let him go  l e t    g    o_

Gottlieb pressed his hands to his ears, willing the panic to subside. The keening grew louder and seemed to claw at him. It wasn’t the wind, it was a _voice,_ and oh, God, it was coming closer, it could see him and hear him and it wanted to know what he was.

 

            _No_

_No_

_Leave me alone_

It was so lonely and it _wanted_ and he didn’t understand how much it needed to see him, to know what he was and take him to itself like it had the other, how dare they think they could come here and then walk away like it didn’t matter

 

_This is a dream I’m sick there is nothing there_

_Don’t look at it don’t listen to it_

It had him it wanted him it didn’t want to be alone anymore every minute was an hour every hour a day and the days blurred together until time stopped and there was nothing, nothing but the empty world and a half-remembered sky and it was so so tired

 

            _Let me go please let me wake up_

Gottlieb’s head wrenched back and he cried out, grasping at the empty air to find the leash the thing held. God, if he could cut the bond of it he would, take it in his hands and stretch it until it snapped.

 

            _D  on’t look at  i  t_

The keening had turned to a low, baying howl. Gottlieb couldn’t help it. He looked up.

            It was a kaiju, but one made of smoke and shade, wading one heavy step at a time towards him. It couldn’t seem to decide what shape it wanted to take. Newt knew the names of them and could rattle them off without effort. Gottlieb wasn’t as well-versed; he watched it turn from one terrible form to another, recalling its name only as it shuddered into the Trespasser.

           

_Get_

_Up_

            The order thrummed through him, reverberating through the leash until Gottlieb couldn’t think of anything else. He struggled to his feet and swayed, pain pounding through him and a fresh streak of blood burning down his face. Trespasser towered above him and dropped with a boneshaking crash to all fours, bowing its head towards him and studying him.

            “Please,” Gottlieb whispered, voice a thread. “Leave me alone.”

           

_Mine  mineminemine mi ne  hivehivehivehive drift hive driftdriftdrift mine home hive home_

_He’s not part of your fucking hive let goletgoletgo le t GO_

Gottlieb shut his eyes, gasping for breath from pain or sheer terror. He was afraid, he was afraid and he was alone and this, this _thing,_ what could it possibly want why did it want him so badly oh God someone please shake him awake let it stop please someone _help him_

Something pulled viciously at the leash and Gottlieb could have screamed from the pain of it, falling forwards.

            Someone caught him.

            “Don’t let it in,” Newt hissed in his ear. “Don’t look at it. It’s not there.”

            “It hurts,” Gottlieb choked. “It’s _hurting me.”_

He shuddered violently and Newt held him up, kneeling right beside him.

            “I’ve got you,” he said. “It’s my fault, I’m sorry. I’ve got you, I swear to God I’ve got you.”

            “You’re not here,” Gottlieb said. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. He didn’t want to see Trespasser staring down at him, didn’t want to see the sky and the decaying city. He wanted to wake up. He thrashed against Newt – no, the hallucination, he was alone and Newt was miles away, too far, the bond had felt stretched to breaking since he’d left Gottlieb never should have let him go-

            “Calm down. The more you panic the easier it gets for it,” Newt said. “Look at me.”

            “No. You’re not…you’re not real. I’m sick, I’ve…something’s happened to me, I can’t-”

            “Hermann I swear to God, stop being rational for one fucking minute and _look at me.”_

“You are the _rudest_ hallucination I’ve ever had,” Gottlieb growled, still struggling. Above him the Trespasser growled in deep curiosity.

 

            _Mineminemine hive hive? Hivehivedrift hive humanhumanhumanhivekaiju kaijuhuman drift mine_

Gottlieb shrank against Newt reflexively. Better the comforting hallucination than the horror standing above him. Slowly, he forced his eyes open and looked at Newt. Revulsion shot through him and he tried to wrench away.

            “You’re not him,” Gottlieb snarled. “Get away from me!”

            Luminous blue blood streaked down Newt’s face from a heavy nosebleed, and a glowing ring had hemorrhaged in his left eye. He looked alarmed at Gottlieb’s reaction, but he refused to let him go.

            “Calm down,” he hissed. Gottlieb only struggled harder, and Newt shook him. “Listen to me! _Calm the fuck down!”_

Gottlieb stared at him. Trespasser gnashed its teeth impatiently above them, and Newt gave it a hateful look.

            “This is impossible,” Gottlieb said weakly. “This…this can’t…”

            “Don’t look at it,” Newt said again. “Don’t let it in.”

            “What is it?”

            “Leftovers.”

            Trespasser snarled, wrenching its head to one side. Gottlieb fell to the ground, the pull dragging him sideways before Newt could catch him again.

            “I thought you said you had me,” he spat. Newt couldn’t help but laugh, strained as the sound was. Trespasser had shifted to something bony and weathered, almost human-like. Newt watched it circle around them, anger contorting his face.

           

            _What do I do what do I do shitshitshit now what we’re stuck he’s stuck myfaultmyfaultmyfault_

            Gottlieb stared at him, baffled. He could hear the words clear as day, as though they were being whispered in his ear…but Newt was still staring after the kaiju, silent and seemingly ignoring him.

            “How is this your fault?” he asked. Newt jolted, looking down at him. His pupils reflected icy blue light and Gottlieb tried not to flinch at the sight of it.

            “I fucked up,” Newt said eventually, looking towards the circling kaiju again. “I really, really fucked up.”


	19. Chapter 19

19.

 

 

 

            “So what do we do?”

            Newt was silent, watching Karloff shift seamlessly to Meathead. It stared down at him and Gottlieb with obsessive interest, circling them slowly.

            “Newton. What do we _do?”_

The kaiju hissed without malice, lips pulling back from its teeth in a rictus grin. Newt watched it with narrowed eyes. It was enjoying itself. It had them both and it was toying with them. It locked eyes with Newt and made an odd coughing growl, jaw opening wide and tongue curling.

            Jesus, it was _laughing_ at him.

            “ _Newton!”_

“I don’t know,” Newt said, shaking his head. “We…there’s…”

            He trailed off into silence, and above them Meathead growled and shook its own head, mimicking him. Gottlieb looked from the kaiju to Newt and back again.

            “Glad to see you’ve been making new friends, at least,” he said dryly. Newt slowly looked at him.

            “Did you seriously just make a _joke?”_

            Gottlieb shrugged, gesturing up at the still-circling kaiju.

            “What else should I be doing? Crying? Screaming hysterically?”

            “I’ve been doing a little bit of both,” Newt said, staring at him in bewilderment. “I…are you _okay?_ ”

            “You’re asking _me_ that?”

            “Don’t get short with me.”

            “I am not being _short._ You just never fail to ask the most irrelevant things at the most inappropriate times.”

            Newt exhaled hard through his nose and worked his jaw, and without warning let the arm supporting Gottlieb slip away. Gottlieb caught himself before he could hit the ground, looking deeply affronted.

            “Really? That’s how you’re going to behave?”

            “I can’t believe I missed this,” Newt said incredulously, standing up and straightening his ripped, muddy clothes. “I’d actually rather be thrown into limbo alone again than deal with this right now.”

            “Well isn’t it a pity I’m trapped here too!” Gottlieb snapped, pushing himself up. He stood very slowly and swayed as his bad leg buckled, but he swatted Newt away when he reached out reflexively to help support him. “Oh, no. You can stay right where you are. I am so _terribly sorry_ I’ve inflicted my presence on you!”

            “I just feel like you’re not really reacting to this the right way!” Newt retorted sharply. “Jesus _Christ,_ Hermann, at least be a little panicked!”

            “And what good does that do? Shall I fall to the ground and curl into a ball in defeat?”

            “Oh my God, why are you making this a fight?”

            “Because there’s no other way to clearly communicate with you, you _troglodyte_!”

            Above them, Meathead had twisted into Kaiceph and was watching them argue in utter bafflement. It growled deep in its throat to try and quiet them down.

            “Oh, _shut up!”_ Newt said, glaring at it. Gottlieb couldn’t help but feel a bit astonished at how fearlessly he stood up to it; Kaiceph’s eyes had widened madly and its jaw clenched, ropes of saliva hanging from between rows of jagged teeth.

            “Newton, don’t _provoke it._ ”

            “It’s not gonna do anything,” Newt spat. Kaiceph immediately proved him wrong, swinging its head sharply to the side. Gottlieb gave a strangled cry of pain and fell sideways, forcing Newt to scramble to catch him before he hit the ground.

            “Oh, shit. Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Newt said hurriedly as Gottlieb gasped for breath, easing him down to the ground so he could sit. “I’m an asshole, I’m sorry. You okay?”

            “How is it _doing_ this to me?” Gottlieb asked, looking shellshocked.

            “It was digging around in my head,” Newt said, shooting Kaiceph a filthy look as it loomed over them silently. “It found the kaiju bonds and it started freaking out and trying to connect with them. When it couldn’t…it dug in a little further.”

            He watched helplessly as Gottlieb wiped the newest streak of blood off his face, pinching his nostrils shut to try and stop the flow. His right eye was hemorrhaged, a dark ring of red framing the iris.

            “And it found…what?” he asked. Newt scratched at the back of his head, looking sick with guilt.

            “I never felt our bond as strong as you do,” he said eventually. “It was buried under all the dead links. They smothered it. And…it...”

            “Unearthed it,” Gottlieb finished, looking up at Kaiceph. It was halfway between shifting to another form, its face and body horribly distorted. Gottlieb shuddered and looked away. “This is utterly ridiculous.”

            “Not the way I’d put it,” Newt said. Gottlieb wiped assiduously at his face, grimacing at the sticky streaks of half-dried blood.

            “I find I like the Drift less and less each day,” he muttered. “Humanity was not built to form hiveminds of our own.”

           

_Hivehivehiveshare alivealive mine mine kaiju human kaijukaiju hive_

            “Try not to say the H-word,” Newt said in an undertone, watching Gottlieb flinch and press his hands to his ears in alarm. Kaiceph phased into Hardship, dropping to all fours and laying in the mire, chin resting on its forearms.

            “It’s like a neglected animal,” Gottlieb said, looking rather shaken. “Why is it…what’s wrong with it?”

            “It’s crazy,” Newt said flatly. “Or so close to the edge it can’t tell the difference anymore. It’s meat in a tube outside the Drift.”

            “Like a coma patient,” Gottlieb said. “Trapped in itself.”

            “Pretty much.”

            Hardship had stretched out to its full length from nose to tail, sinking bit by bit into the soft ground and water pooling up around it. It watched Newt and Gottlieb with unblinking attention, eyes flicking from one to the other with discomforting lucidity.

            “I think I preferred it when I thought they were mindless animals,” Gottlieb said. “This makes it much more uncomfortable.”

            “Trust me, I’m not the biggest fan of it either,” Newt muttered. Gottlieb gave him a wry look. “No, I mean it. This is getting kind of old.”

            The wind sighed across mire, cutting through both of them mercilessly. Gottlieb tried to ignore the chill, part of him still fighting to reason that this entire thing wasn’t real – he was in the lab in Los Angeles, not in this… _whatever_ it was. He looked around, peering past Hardship to the decaying city behind it.

            “Where are we?”

            “I don’t know,” Newt sighed. He sat crosslegged beside Gottlieb, picking at the broken tarmac. He pitched bits of it into the muddy water and watched the ripples spread. “It’s my memories, but they’re all screwed up. It saw things I remembered and tried to build them.”

            Gottlieb glanced at Newt sidelong. The glowing hemorrhage in his left eye was disturbing to look at, and even moreso the bright line of dried kaiju blood that striped down from his nose. Newt caught him looking and turned away, a hand raising self-consciously to his face.

            “What’s happened to you?”

            Newt scrubbed at his nose with his dirty sleeve, staying silent.

            “What has it done to you?”

            “I don’t know,” Newt repeated softly. He scrubbed more violently and Gottlieb grabbed his wrist before he could hurt himself. Newt didn’t resist, though he couldn’t seem to bring himself to look Gottlieb in the eye again. “It wants to keep me here with it. It doesn’t want to be alone. Scunner didn’t know the _beginning_ of what being alone is.”

            He was starting to talk too quickly, shivering from something other than the cold.

            “I can’t look at myself,” he said. “It’s not me looking back anymore, it’s them, all of them. They’re trying to claw into my head and I can’t, I can’t…I can’t shake them _out,_ you know? I can’t get them out. They won’t leave me alone.”

            “Newton, that’s enough,” Gottlieb said quietly. Newt ducked his head down and hissed softly from between clenched teeth, though he still hadn’t pulled away. Gottlieb took Newt's hand in both of his own. “That’s _enough_. You’re working yourself into a fit. Look at me.”

            “It’s my fault,” Newt said, voice strained. “It’s my fault you’re here. I didn’t think. I didn’t even think of what it’d do to you. I didn’t mean it.”

            “This isn’t your fault,” Gottlieb said. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You only did what was asked of you.”   

            Newt shook his head hard, the shivering growing worse. Above them, Hardship gave a long, rattling sigh.

            “Should’ve said no,” Newt muttered. “Should’ve said no.”

            It was hard to see Newt like this. He was stable for the most part; true, he was prone to fits of manic excitability, his tendency to fixate, but… _sane._ How much of this was the kaiju’s influence and how much was his own cracking sanity, Gottlieb couldn’t tell. He grasped tightly on Newt’s hand, and after a long moment Newt squeezed back.

            “I didn’t mean for this,” he said. Gottlieb nodded patiently.

            “I know you didn’t.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “You don’t _have_ to be. I’m not angry with you.”

            Newt stared keenly at him and Gottlieb bore the scrutiny without flinching. After a minute he started to calm down and Gottlieb let go of his hand.

            “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’m…okay, we can…”

            “Just take a moment to breathe,” Gottlieb said, looking over at Hardship. No, it was back to that dreadful weathered thing again, its mouth moving silently as though trying to copy their conversation. It looked like a mockery of humanity, its spindly body all wrong in proportion and angles. It seemed to sense his disgust and its body shivered almost meekly back into Meathead, eyes flickering away whenever it caught Gottlieb looking at it.

            “I think I’ve insulted it,” he said uncertainly. Newt laughed shakily.

            “ _Nobody_ likes Karloff, dude. Even for a kaiju there was something wrong with it.”

            Meathead growled in genuine affront, lips peeling back from its teeth again. Its breath was a disgusting hot wave that reeked of ammonia.

            “Newton, may I remind you that it still has its teeth on our bond like a leash,” Gottlieb muttered reprovingly. “Try not to provoke it into ripping my brain out through the back of my head.”

            “Ahh, sorry,” Newt said. Gottlieb snorted softly.

            “Imbecile.”

           

 

\--

 

            Liang didn’t know what she had expected to find in the laboratory, but a dead body was a bit of a surprise anyway. Or…wait, _was_ he dead? She cast a careful look around. No one else in the lab, no one in the corridors; maybe he hadn’t had time to call out before he collapsed. Liang rolled him over onto his side, making a soft sound of disgust at the blood that had pooled under the man’s face in a stream from his nose. He was incredibly pale and drawn, and she snatched her hands away from him as he gave a weak convulsive twitch.

            Oh good, he was still alive. His pulse was steady when she checked it, though his eyes had rolled back into his head and she couldn’t see if his pupils were reacting properly. His ID badge was clipped onto his jacket and she gave a heavy sigh as she peeked at it.

            “I thought your _friend_ was the stupid one,” she said, hoisting Gottlieb up. He was dead weight in her arms, body jumping in spasm from time to time. She propped him up against his desk and sat down in his chair, nudging his cane away with her foot. “I don’t suppose you leave your computer unlocked…”

            Blood spotted the desktop. Liang ignored the stains and shuffled through a few loose papers, looking for anything interesting. Sheet after sheet of numbers and complex calculations, that’s all she found. With an irritated sound she glanced down at Gottlieb again.

            “You’re not much help at all,” she said. “What am I supposed to do with all this?”

            He didn’t answer. Liang shook her head, turning to his computer. It was locked down and she doubted Gottlieb was the type to leave his passwords out in the open. She pushed away from the desk and stepped over Gottlieb, rooting through a few boxes scattered around the lab space. Nothing. Nothing useful at all. She kicked the boxes in frustration. She truly didn’t want to go into Herc’s office; she didn’t want to risk being caught first and foremost, but not wanting to exploit him was a close second. Chau would have her hide if she didn’t bring in some kind of results…

            Liang glanced back at Gottlieb.

            “Any suggestions?”

            Gottlieb gave a twitch, and nothing more.

 

\--

 

            “How long have you been here?”

            Newt was pacing along the edge of the islet, pitching pebbles into the water from time to time. He shrugged at the question.

            “Days. Maybe a week, I don’t know. You lose track after awhile.”

            “ _Days?_ ” Gottlieb asked, horrified. “They’ve had you doing this for _days?”_

“No, no! I mean…in Drift-time, it’s been days,” Newt said quickly. “Sorry, sorry. It’s…time doesn’t really work here? The way it does on the outside, I mean. It kind of doesn’t move at all.”

            “Give a man a heart attack, Newton,” Gottlieb muttered in disgust. Newt laughed tiredly, pitching another pebble. It landed with a splash and the rings expanded outwards towards Meathead, and it shifted its head to study them as they rippled against it.

            The world was growing steadily darker. The city had collapsed into ruin and dust around them, and the sky was losing stars one at a time. It was becoming a void, and he, Gottlieb and the kaiju were the only solid things in it.

            “What time did they start the test?”

            “Um…ten fifteen-ish, I think. I don’t know how long it took for things to screw up completely.”

            “Ten fifteen in the morning in your part of the world,” Gottlieb said to himself, ticking off numbers on his fingers. “And two fifteen in the afternoon in mine. I took ill and collapsed around…ah, must have been two fifty-five, so…”

            Newt stopped dead, giving Gottlieb an agonized look.

            “Two…two fifty-five? That’s it?” he asked. Gottlieb nodded, and Newt laughed with slight hysteria. “Two fifty-five. I’ve…Jesus _Christ,_ I’ve only been here for _half an hour?”_

“Don’t make yourself agitated again,” Gottlieb said firmly. Newt started at the reprimand like a scolded dog.

            “Not even a little?”

            “Not even a little.”

            Newt muttered something sour, rolling his shoulders and cricking his head nervously to one side. Gottlieb watched him closely, sitting as comfortably as he could on the cold ground and trying to ignore how his leg ached. Newt grumbled at the observation and threw his arms up, more content to be annoyed than to let himself slip into another episode.

            “Fine. I’m calm, I’m okay.”

            “You’re never okay,” Gottlieb said dryly. “You either searching for something to be dramatic about or you _are_ being dramatic about something.”

            “Don’t make me push you into the mud, Hermann. I’ll do it.”

            “Dramatic _and_ juvenile. Glad to see your best character traits remain unchanged.”

            Newt threw a pebble at him and it bounced off Gottlieb’s shoulder, though there wasn’t much force behind it. Gottlieb merely gave him a look of mocking disapproval, shaking his head and looking away. The darkness was creeping closer, the city nothing more than a silhouette of grey quickly fading out of sight. Meathead was still lying on the ground and watching them, but it had begun to lose its grip on a single shape, body undulating and shifting like smoke.

            “Why is it only a few different kaiju?” Gottlieb asked quietly, trying to ignore how it stared unblinkingly at him. Newt picked up another handful of pebbles and started throwing them again. The water was fading away to nothing, and the pebbles kept falling downwards and out of sight.

            “”It’s an earlier version of itself,” he said, leaning over the edge. He tipped the rest of the pebbles out of his hand and they fell in a slow cascade, like debris floating through water. “Meathead was Horizon Brave’s second kill before it got wrecked in Lima, so that’s…shit, eight years ago I think? It hasn’t been updated since it was killed.”

            “Updated?”

            “Yeah,” Newt said, dusting his hands off. The smoky mass that was now half-Meathead, half-Hundun watched him with too many eyes, faces shifting and turning in the haze as he paced in front of it. “Think about it. Nothing to connect to, nothing to transfer itself into. Meathead’s the last update this version of the hivemind had before it was cut off from the whole.”

            The mass shuddered and twisted into Trespasser with effort, breathing out a heavy sigh. Its claws dug at earth that had faded away almost completely. Newt watched it wearily.

            “You can’t help but feel sorry for it,” he said. Gottlieb gave a snort.

            “My sympathies are rather limited.”

            “Yeah, I know…I guess _I_ just feel sorry for it. Probably gonna end up the same way as it anyway.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Newt shook his head and stayed silent, peering over the edge of the islet again. The world had gone almost completely dark. As Newt looked down, wondering how far a thing would fall if they jumped, Gottlieb looked up.

            “The stars are fading.”

            “Yeah. The hive gets…it’s dark. Empty space, usually.”

            “Why was the city decaying?”

            “Probably because it’s concentrating harder on keeping you here than keeping up the projections,” Newt said bitterly. Gottlieb gave him a look and he held up his hands. “I’m fine, I’m not freaking out. It’s just what’s happening. I can feel it.”

            “Metaphorically?”

            “ _Literally_ , idiot,” Newt said, giving Gottlieb a dirty look. He tapped at the back of his head. “It’s like a…it hurt when it pulled you in. Like I was a bridge for it to use to get to you.”

            “Does it still hurt?”

            “No…or it hurts so much that my brain just shut it out, either or,” Newt sighed. “It’s focusing on keeping you here. That’s what it cares about.”

            Gottlieb gave the kaiju a look of distaste, and it looked back at him unflinching.

            “How did this happen? I thought there were safeties in place to prevent this kind of incident from happening. _Again.”_

            “Power surge,” Newt said absently. Gottlieb made an odd noise and he looked over. “What?”

            “A power surge,” Gottlieb said slowly. “A brownout, then the power returning too quickly? Systems overheating, bulbs bursting?”

            “How did you-?”

            “How often have they been happening?”

            Newt wracked his brain, starting to pace again and shaking his head.

            “I don’t…I don’t know. A couple times a day, maybe…they don’t follow a pattern, it’s not an hourly thing. It happened on the mainland too.”

            “And in Hong Kong,” Gottlieb said. “And Los Angeles. Rolling, consistent power failures-”

            “That come in waves,” Newt continued. They stared at each other. “It’s not separate incidents, it’s continuous waves, one after the other. They happen so quickly and so sporadically-”

            “That we only _think_ it is separate phenomena,” Gottlieb concluded. He shook his head, wide-eyed. “But there’s no point of origin that we can find, it simply keeps _happening._ Even if we tried to track it the equipment would probably fail out from under us.”

            “There’s got to be consistency in it somewhere,” Newt said, pacing along the edge of the islet. Trespasser shifted slowly to Hundun, studying him. “What the hell is _causing_ it?”

            “I’ve heard nothing but reports of failing power grids and depleted resources,” Gottlieb said. “They address it, say they’re working to fix the issue, and then it keeps happening anyway.”

            “Power grids my ass, it’s just official talk for ‘we have no fucking idea what’s going on’,” Newt muttered.  “They don’t know.”

            “Neither do we, we’re grasping at straws. Someone else _somewhere_ has to be realizing what’s wrong with these surges.”

            “Well, while we’re working to find out what’s causing it maybe they’ll chime in and help,” Newt snapped. Gottlieb gave a darkly amused laugh. “What? What’s funny?”

            “Newton, have you forgotten where we are?”

            Hundun chittered softly, claws scraping at the edge of the islet and grinding the remaining tarmac to dust.

            “Oh. Oh, right. Shit.”

            Gottlieb laughed again, though the sound was strained. He wiped absently at his face where it itched, and his hand came away wet and red.

            “…ah.”

            He looked up at Newt, the amusement turning a little more morbid.

            “And I think it’s beginning to wear on me a bit.”

           

\--

 

            Worthless, all of it. Liang didn’t have a head for numbers like this; she counted herself as an intelligent person, but Gottlieb was apparently part-computer. His work was like a different language to her. She looked down at him again with something like resentment. The nosebleed was still going strong and he was pale as a corpse, skin damp with sweat. Whatever had happened to him, it wasn’t getting any better.

            She probably should have called for help as soon as she found him.

            “Well, it was nice to meet you at least,” she said mildly, turning away. Someone would come along and find him at some point, she was sure. And besides, it was probably better this way. Chau’s interest in him and Geiszler was starting to border on the unhealthy; better to be damaged or dead than available for Chau to pick up on a whim and take away.

            Liang was at the door when she looked over her shoulder. Gottlieb was right where she had left him, a pathetic figure slumped against the desk. He might be having a stroke for all she knew.

            She should have called for help. Really, he could be dying right now and all she was doing was watching. He twitched again, and Liang leaned against the doorframe and sighed.

            “Dammit.”


	20. Chapter 20

20.

 

 

            Tendo twisted the rosary so tightly around his wrist it was beginning to cut off circulation. He wasn’t allowed inside, and no one was coming in or out of the lab. But he could hear them talking, and at one point he had heard an awful, choked sound – like someone trying not to scream. He wanted more than anything to push through into the lab and see what they were doing to Newt, but he knew if he tried they would simply throw him out.

            Gottlieb would never forgive him. He’d asked Tendo to make sure Newt didn’t do anything stupid, and look what had happened. He couldn’t bear to think what Gottlieb would say if something permanently damaging happened. And Marshall Hansen…Tendo’s heart sank into his stomach. He’d given Tendo permission to stay so long as he kept a close eye on Newt. He didn’t know what was worse. That they had both trusted him to be responsible and he’d let them down, or that he’d just stood back and let Newt jump headfirst into the fire again. Guilt washed over Tendo in a sickening wave and he twisted at the rosary again, pinching skin between the weathered beads.

            Oh, God, he was sorry. He should have put his foot down and dragged Newt away. He should have called the Marshall, he should have…Tendo winced, untangling the rosary before he could break it. He was scared. God, he hadn’t been this scared since Scunner died. He had watched it cough its life out on the dock and had prayed, begging Newt to be alright. He didn’t know what to pray for now. That Newt come out of the Drift with his sanity intact, maybe. That there be something _left_ of him.

            The lights buzzed and began to fade into a brownout, but Tendo barely noticed, head bowed down and fingers counting out desperate prayers on the rosary.

 

\--

 

            “Hermann, you’re _bleeding!_ ”

            “What an astute observation.”

            Newt knelt beside Gottlieb, wiping the blood away unthinking with his shirtsleeve. Gottlieb bore it patiently for a moment and then pushed Newt away.

            “Enough, you’re just smearing mud on me.”

            “I am _not,_ just let me…Jesus, why are you bleeding?”

            “I’m not…feeling very well,” Gottlieb said. “I haven’t since I arrived. It’s getting a bit worse, now.”

            Newt stood abruptly and looked towards Hundun. It stared evenly at him, eyes just a shade too wide.

            “It’s _you,_ ” he hissed. “Look what you’re doing, you stupid son of a bitch-“

            “Newton!”

            Newt flinched at the sharpness in Gottlieb’s tone, looking at him frantically.

            “It’s hurting you,” he said. “Just…I can make it let you go, I just need to…”

            “I think we established that scolding it only encourages it to injure me further,” Gottlieb said. “Leave it be, Newton. It will release me on its own terms, or not at all.”

            “It’s killing you,” Newt said, voice cracking. Gottlieb shook his head.

            “It’s _hurting_ me. Do try not to jump to conclusions. You’ll only work yourself into another fit.”

            “I don’t have _fits.”_

“Call them whatever you like,” Gottlieb said. He wiped carefully at his nose, trying to clean the blood away. The flow was thin and slow, refusing to stop. The pain in the back of his head was coming in waves that were slowly growing worse and he couldn’t quite hide it. Newt watched him with barely-concealed panic.

            “It doesn’t understand what it’s doing to you,” he said, kneeling next to Gottlieb again. He pushed Gottlieb’s hand away from his face and started cleaning the blood away again, ignoring the irritated look he earned. “It’s like a little kid. It doesn’t understand that it’s hurting you. If I could just, just make it let go, you’d probably just snap back to your body or something, it’s the Drift, we’re not Drifting right and it’s-”

            “Newton, _calm down._ ”

            “I’m perfectly calm!”

            “No, you’re beginning to panic, and it’s not going to do either of us any good,” Gottlieb said. Newt stared at him helplessly. “I’ll be alright.”

            “Don’t say that. Don’t look at me and _lie_ like that, something’s _wrong._ ”

            Gottlieb put a hand on his shoulder and gave Newt a slight shake.

            “I will be fine,” he said firmly. “But I need you to _keep yourself together._ If you panic, _I_ will panic. And then we will both set that _creature_ off, and we’ll be in an even worse mess.”

            Hundun was losing form entirely, phasing into the shapelessness of the hivemind. It didn’t seem to mind Newt’s obvious distress or Gottlieb’s pain in the slightest, merely observing them like a curious animal. They both looked at it and it seemed pleased by their attention, Trespasser’s face leering out of the mass.

            “Talk to me,” Gottlieb said. Newt stared at him.

            “What?”

            “Just…talk to me. Tell me something I don’t know, tell me something about what you’ve been doing without me.”

            “Uh…okay. Okay,” Newt said, sitting down beside Gottlieb. He leaned against Newt a bit to keep himself upright, trying to ignore the pain that was beginning to stab through his head. Newt put an arm around his shoulder again protectively. “Okay. I….I met a couple people at Pitcairn. You’d hate ‘em, they’re interested in kaiju biology almost as much as me.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah. You remember…remember that thing I did about Onibaba? How it compared against deep-sea crustaceans?”

            Gottlieb nodded after a moment, pressing a hand to his nose. Blood oozed in a hot, sullen flow past his fingers.

            “I do remember. I recall telling you it was utter twaddle.”

            “Yeah, and I told you ‘twaddle’ wasn’t a real word and then we got into a fight about it when you couldn’t find it in the dictionary to prove me wrong.”

            “It _is_ a real word,” Gottlieb muttered. Newt laughed slightly, trying very hard to ignore how the blood kept flowing. Gottlieb was beginning to look very pale, washed out in the flat grey light.

            “Well, one of them wrote their _dissertation_ using my research. So, _ha_. I win.”

            “Only if they received a passing grade for it. I wouldn’t count on a hundred pages worth of kaiju-loving fluff being a win.”

            “You’re just upset that no one ever liked your lectures about the Breach.”

            Trespasser gave another rattling sigh above them, body twisting sinuously into Karloff. It slunk around them, eyeing Gottlieb almost skittishly. Newt looked at it angrily, and Gottlieb cleared his throat.

            “What else? Tell me something else.”

            “I can make it let you go,” Newt muttered. “We’re wasting time. I can make it let you go.”

            “Talk to me,” Gottlieb said firmly, the faintest catch of pain in his voice. “It wants to listen too. Talk to both of us.”

            “I don’t want it to keep hurting you,” Newt said. “I don’t want you ending up like me.”

            “And how is that?”

            “Crazy,” Newt whispered. Gottlieb gave him a deeply reproving look.

            “I wish you’d stop saying that. You’re not crazy.”

            “You don’t know how bad it’s been since I left. It gets worse every day.”

            Gottlieb was silent, wiping his hand clean on his shirt from time to time. He looked very tired, and more than a little sick.

            “I should have fought harder not to let you go,” he said. “Did you even learn anything from all this? Was it even worth what they’ve put you through?”

            “No,” Newt said bitterly. “Two hits of kaiju memory and all I learned was that their masters fucking hate us and that they wanted to raze us to the ground.”

           

            _Homehome masters hom e  studyseelearn reportreport fight  fight home home  pr e  cur  so r   s_

Gottlieb rocked against Newt, shuddering at the influx of impressions and thoughts. Newt had never gotten used to it, but he bore the noise a little better.

            “What the hell is a Precursor?” Gottlieb asked. Newt shook his head, glancing around. Karloff had shifted to Meathead and it lay curled around them like a cat, tail circling to its snout to pen them close to itself.

            “I…I don’t know,” he said.

            “Is that what the kaiju call themselves, maybe?”

            “No. No, they don’t…call themselves _anything_ ,” Newt said uncertainly. “They don’t have names.”

           

            _Namesnamesself self hive self human?humanhuman hive no hive self names kaijukaijukaiju we   a re hive hive is  ka  iju_

“My God, it’s like listening to you after you’ve drunk too much coffee,” Gottlieb muttered. Newt snorted despite himself, giving Gottlieb a look.

            “I do _not_ sound like that.”

            “Deny it as much as you like,” Gottlieb said, his head bowing down briefly to hide a wince. He blinked hard, eyes watering. “It’s…very loud.”

            “Hermann, _please_. I can make it let you go.”

            “No you can’t,” Gottlieb said softly. “It wants me here for some reason. You said it’s like a child. How are you going to convince a child to part with something it wants this badly?”

            _painpain?pain lonely humanhuman hive kaijuhuman hivehive? Alonealonealone pain_

            “You’re hurting him,” Newt growled through gritted teeth, staring up at Meathead. “You understand that? You don’t have to keep him here. _I’m_ here. Why are you doing this?”

            Meathead’s mouth yawned open widely, an odd rattling sound coming deep from its throat.

 

            _Hivehivehive mine ours mine self oursoursours human kaiju self_

            “No,” Newt said, laughing hopelessly. “No, you can’t…Jesus, that’s not how it works. We can’t…”

            “What does it mean?” Gottlieb asked. “What’s it trying to say?”

            “It wants us to…God, it’s trying to make us part of it. It thinks the Drift is a hive,” Newt said, trying to fight off a wave of despairing laughter. “It’s so lonely it’s trying to build a new hive for itself.”

            A fierce throb of pain made Gottlieb rock against Newt again. He could feel the kaiju tugging at the Drift bond, trying to puzzle out how it worked. It was like trying to perform brain surgery with a sledgehammer, and Gottlieb wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

            “What will it do when it realizes it can’t?” he asked Newt, very quietly. Newt shrugged.

            “I don’t know.”

            Gottlieb sighed, wiping his hand off on his shirt again. His fingers were caked in dried blood, and he made a sound of disgust at the sight of it.

            “So much trouble, and nothing learned from it,” he said. “A useless name and a suspicion about power outages, nothing else.”

            “Yeah, well. Maybe the Precursors are causing them,” Newt said dryly. Gottlieb laughed slightly, but then paused, expression falling.

            “…what if they are?”

            “I was joking, Hermann.”

            “I know that. But…” he looked at Newt narrowly. “How did the first Breach open?”

            Newt went very still, staring at Gottlieb. He shook his head slowly.

            “No one knows how. You _know_ that. We never figured it out. It just…it just _happened.”_

“Something like that doesn’t just happen,” Gottlieb said. “Such things never just _happen._ They cracked the world open. They…the _Precursors,_ if that’s what they call themselves…there must be…”

            He trailed off, head bowing down with a choked sound and eyes closing tightly as he shuddered with pain. Newt shook him after a moment and Gottlieb gave a startled jolt, pressing his hands against the sides of his head.

            “It’s so hard to think,” he said slowly. “It _hurts._ Does it…Newton, does it always hurt like this?”

            “Yeah,” Newt said, looking towards Meathead again. “Yeah, it does.”

            “I’m so tired,” Gottlieb said, his voice strained. “I can’t…what were we talking about?”

            Newt held onto Gottlieb a little tighter, as though trying to anchor him.

            “Nothing that can’t wait,” he said. “Just…just rest for a minute, okay?”

            Gottlieb nodded absently and Newt eased him down to the ground, rounding on Meathead furiously.

            “Look what you’re doing,” he spat. The kaiju stared at him, fascinated. “Stop it. Let him go. You can’t have him, you understand? You’re gonna kill him.”

 

_Mineminemine hive human kaiju hive mine_

“You already have me,” Newt said. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’ll stay, you can keep me, do whatever you want with me! But you _have_ to let him go. I’ll stay! I promise, I swear, I’ll _stay!”_

Meathead shifted seamlessly into Hardship, staring keenly at Newt.

 

            _Staystaystay mine mine?mine hive mine humanhumanmine_

“I’ll stay,” Newt repeated, despairing. “Just let him go. You’re killing him.”

           

            _Hivehivehive mine staylearnsee stay stay learn seelearn see_

            “Learn? Learn what? You don’t have anything I can use,” Newt spat, frustrated. “You don’t know _anything_ , you fucking…”

            Hardship drew very close to Newt, the tip of its snout nudging against him. It watched him avidly, teeth clicking and a low growl rattling in its throat.

            “What do you _want?_ ” Newt said, pushing it uselessly. It didn’t budge an inch, and he leaned forward against it. Its skin was scaly and smooth, feverishly hot to the touch. Newt ran a hand across it wearily. “What else do you want from me? I don’t have anything left.”

           

            _Selfselfself hive self mine hu m an kaijuhumanhumankaiju self_

            “I don’t know what you want,” Newt whispered, turning his face to hide against it. “Just let him go. I’ll stay, I promise, I’ll _stay_ …”

            Hardship pulled away, looking upwards in sudden distress. Newt looked up with it and made a small, astonished sound. The sky was empty of stars, but flickers of something else were crawling across it, flocking together like living things.

            The AI.

            “Hermann,” Newt said quickly, pulling him up and giving him a shake. “Hermann, wake up. You gotta wake up, okay? Look at me.”

            “I _am_ awake, stop shaking me,” Gottlieb muttered, words slurring slightly. “What is it?”

            “Tell Hansen about the surges,” Newt said urgently. Hardship made a furious sound behind him and he looked up again – the flickers were growing brighter and duller in quick waves, the AI struggling to take hold again. He could hear a faint static buzz. Gottlieb was staring up in confusion and Newt gave him another shake. “Look at me. Focus, okay? Tell Hansen about the surges. Can you remember that?”

            “The…what are you talking about?”

            Newt bit back a frustrated growl.

            “ _Focus_ , idiot,” he said. Gottlieb glared at him in annoyance. “When you get back, _tell him._ ”

            “What about you?”

            Newt held onto Gottlieb very tightly for a second, and then pulled away. Gottlieb stared at him, trying to push himself up.

            “Newton, what about you?”

            Newt said nothing. The sky flashed in colors he couldn’t identify, and Gottlieb looked up again, startled.

            “What _is_ that? What’s happening?”

            Newt backed away, looking skyward again. The static buzzed more loudly and he winced, pressing his hands to his ears. Hardship reared back and shrieked, infuriated and batting madly at the empty air.

            “Newton,” Gottlieb said, panic edging into his voice. “What _is_ that?”

           

 

\--

 

            Tendo sat on the floor, staring at the door, his fingers counting every rosary bead over and over. Let them be able to help. Let them be able to help. Let there be something left. Let him be okay. Over and over he counted the beads, and over and over the same pleas ran through his mind. Let there be something left. Let him be okay.

            There was a shout that made him jerk back in surprise, hitting his head hard against the wall. He barely felt the pain, pushing himself up and going to the door, pressing an ear against it. Muffled, excited voices talking in a frustrating blur- something-something-AI, something…computer? Fail-something? Dammit, he couldn’t hear a fucking thing.

            Tendo looked around to make sure no one was looking, and he pulled the door open a crack.

            “-vitals are stable, don’t know what that new reading is, just ignore it for now-”

            “It just showed up out of nowhere, what if it’s the kaiju-?”

            “Forget the specimen, just _pull him out-”_

Tendo pulled the door open, all thought of being caught forgotten. There was a knot of people around the Pons, Lightcap chief among them. She looked up briefly when she saw him and started to scowl, then shook her head and turned away. Tendo slipped inside and pressed himself against a far wall, holding onto the rosary’s crucifix so tightly it was starting to cut into his palm.

 

\--

 

            Hardship gave another shriek, losing shape entirely as it tried to shift again. Trespasser and Hundun spliced together hideously and it keened, rounding on Newt and Gottlieb.

 

            _alonealonealoneALONEALONEALONE A LONE_

Newt shuddered at the kaiju’s maddened ranting, pulling Gottlieb up and pushing him to the edge of the islet.

            “Will you stop herding me!” Gottlieb snapped, trying to shove him away. “What _is_ that? What's happening?”

            Trespasser-Hundun shuddered into a half-formed Karloff, crawling and looming over them both. It clawed at the ground threateningly and Newt turned away from it, refusing to look.

            “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me,” he said quickly. The static grew louder and Gottlieb winced at it, startled. “I don’t know if…look, just…”

            He made a frustrated sound and gave up, looking upwards. The sky was a network of circuitry and he could have cried from relief at the sight of it. Karloff howled in dismay, clawing more violently at the ground. It shook its head and Gottlieb pitched forward, grabbing at the back of his head and hissing in pain. Newt caught him, holding him upright. The static grew deafening, and Karloff screamed. The sky shivered and Karloff’s scream cut off as though a window had slammed shut between it and them, muffling it; Gottlieb could hear it hammering against the unyielding surface, desperate, infuriated, _terrified._

            “Goodbye,” Newt whispered, shoving him away. Gottlieb staggered back and stared at him in confusion, pain shooting through his head. Suddenly he was blinded by it, the pull giving one last terrible effort to bind him, God it hurt _it hurt it-_

 

 

\--

 

            Gottlieb gasped for air, fighting off the hands grabbing at him.

            “Let go of me, let _go!”_ he shouted, struggling to get free. Everything hurt; his head was pounding, his body ached, what on earth had _happened_ to him?

            “Hermann! Hermann, Jesus _Christ_ -”

            Gottlieb stared at Herc in bewilderment, still struggling against the medics trying to restrain him.

            “Marshall?” he asked. “What…”

            “What _is_ it with the pair of you playing dead?” Herc asked. Gottlieb wiped shakily at his face, staring at the blood that stained his hand. Above them, the lights flickered and he looked up at them. Dammit, there was something important about that, he needed to tell someone about it but he couldn’t...remember _what…_

            With a soft pained sound, Gottlieb collapsed, blacking out.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

 

            “How is he?”

            The medic gave Herc a wry look, nodding towards the infirmary doors. There was a great deal of muffled shouting coming from behind it and more than a few of the medical staff were standing outside, looking rather unwilling to go back in.

            “Irritated,” he said. Herc sighed and shook his head.

            “Yeah, that sounds about right. How long has he been awake?”

            “Twenty minutes, give or take. He had a bit of a lapse when he was trying to walk out the first time. Didn’t take kindly to having his cane privileges suspended.”

            “You took it _away_ from him?”

            “For his own good, sir. He stood up and fainted again almost immediately.”

            Herc made a disapproving noise but didn’t argue. The shouting was growing louder, and he could pick out words like ‘senior officer’, ‘no right to keep me here’, and a particularly venomous ‘get the hell off me!’.

            “And he was asking after me?” Herc asked resignedly. The medic nodded.

            “Said he wanted your permission to leave.”

            Herc had absolutely no desire to speak with Gottlieb. His initial panic at being told the man was bleeding and seizing up had long since passed, and the residual anger from their argument was warring with his professionalism. He had never been as close to striking a subordinate as he had with Gottlieb – and seeing as Gottlieb had been deadly close to hitting him in the face with that blasted cane, one could almost have angled it as self-defense. If they were being generous about it, anyway.

            “Alright, alright. I’ll try to calm him down.”

            “Appreciated, sir.”

            The infirmary was a narrow space with beds separated by curtained dividers, and noise carried effortlessly. There were no other patients at the moment and for that Herc was grateful; Gottlieb was shouting loud enough to wake the dead.

            “-give me back my cane this _instant!_ I will not be kept here like an invalid!”

            “Doctor Gottlieb, please, I just need to take your blood pressure-”

            “ _Let me out of here at once!”_

“That’s enough,” Herc barked, pulling the curtain back. Gottlieb and the nurse he was haranguing both started in surprise. “Miss, if I could have a moment with the patient?”

            “By all means,” the nurse said, giving Gottlieb an icy look as she left. He ignored her, sitting on the edge of his bed and fussing with the ID wristband someone had wrestled onto him. He refused to look up at Herc, bent on pulling it off.

            “Doctor Gottlieb,” Herc said. Gottlieb turned away, expression sour. “Hermann, for God’s sake. You were asking after me, I’m here.”

            “I was asking for your permission to _leave,_ sir. Nowhere in the request were the words ‘and I’d like to speak with him face to face’ ever uttered.”

            “I suggest watching your tone when addressing your superior, Doctor Gottlieb.”

            With a sigh that bordered on petulant, Gottlieb gave up on the ID band and finally glanced up. He looked terrible; pale and drawn as though recovering from illness, and a dark, wide ring of blood hemorrhaged in his right eye. Herc couldn’t help but stare at him. Gottlieb looked away after a moment in a bout of self-consciousness, a hand rising to his face.

            “I assure you, I feel far better than I look,” he said stiffly. “There’s no need for me to be kept here, sir.”

            “I don’t believe that for a second,” Herc said. “They found you seizing up.”

            “And exactly why were _you_ there? Suffering does not require an audience.”

            “In case you died, mostly. They called me down as soon as they found you.”

            Gottlieb made an indistinct noise, pulling at his ID band again.

            “How _did_ they find me? I didn’t have time to call for help before…”

            “A tech walking by saw you on the floor, she called it in,” Herc said, pulling up a chair to sit by the bed. “I’d thank her if I could find where she went. She probably saved your life.”

            “I was not in any kind of mortal peril, sir,” Gottlieb muttered.

            “You don’t have a history of seizures, either. Cause for concern.”

            “It _wasn’t_ a seizure.”

            Herc stared at him, puzzled. The lights buzzed and began to dim and Gottlieb suddenly flinched as though he’d been struck, looking up at them with wide eyes.

            “There they go again,” he said, more to himself than to Herc. He slid off the bed and his legs immediately gave out from under him; he caught himself on the edge of the bed before he could collapse completely, and Herc jumped up to help. “Get away, I’m fine! I just…where is my _cane,_ I don’t have _time_ for this…”

            “Hermann, you’re half a step away from dead,” Herc said, pulling him up by the arm and helping him back onto the bed. Gottlieb wrenched away in frustration.

            “I’m _fine._ What I need is to get back to work. These…Marshall, how long was I unconscious?”

            “Six hours.”

            “How many surges have there been today? I haven’t been able to keep track.”

            Herc shrugged, looking up at the dimmed overheads. They buzzed dismally for a second, and then slowly struggled back to normal.

            “I’d guess…maybe five, altogether? Why?”

            Gottlieb hesitated, gesturing aimlessly.

            “It’s…difficult to explain,” he said. “I believe there is something about the surges that is…”

            He trailed off, looking at Herc. Something was definitely off about him; Herc had never known Gottlieb to be nervous or twitchy. He was acting almost like…like Newt, actually.

            “Hermann, what happened?” he asked. “They can’t find anything wrong with you. No abnormal brain activity, no injuries, nothing. What _happened?”_

Gottlieb looked away uneasily, twisting at the ID band again.

            “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, sir.”

            “You’d be surprised what I’m willing to believe these days.”

            Gottlieb smiled humorlessly, eyes flicking up to the lights from time to time.

            “A broadened concept of impossibility?”

            “Yeah. Seeing how far logic can be stretched.”

            A thin laugh escaped Gottlieb, but when he looked to Herc again his eyes had gone red and watering.

            “Something’s gone wrong at Pitcairn, sir.”

            Herc was silent, though he felt an apprehensive knot form in his chest.

            “How do you know?”

            Gottlieb absently touched the back of his head, staring at the floor unblinkingly.

            “Because it ripped me into the Drift with it,” he muttered. “I saw it. I saw _them._ It…Marshall, it…”

            He fell silent, shaking his head sharply. He took a long moment to collect himself enough to keep talking.

            “It was so… _painful,_ ” Gottlieb said. “He never said how much it hurt, the _imbecile._ So he…so he wouldn’t worry me, or some kind of harebrained sense of pride, I can’t…”

            “He? You mean Doctor Geiszler?”

            “Who _else?_ ” Gottlieb asked sharply, looking at Herc again. “He was _there._ I _saw_ him. I talked to him, he…he tried to protect me from it, he’s done something terrible to himself and I wasn’t there to _stop him._ I should never have let him go. _You_ should never have let them take him!”

            His voice grew louder until he was shouting at Herc, infuriated. Herc sat back and stared at him. Gottlieb looked half-crazed, a sick flush in his face.

            “You have to calm down,” he said. Gottlieb made a disgusted noise and looked away, shaking his head again.

            “Calm down,” he echoed bitterly. “You don’t believe me, you don’t understand. It happened and of course you don’t believe me, who would?”

            “You’re jumping around faster than I can follow,” Herc said. “You’re saying you Drifted without a neural bridge, is that right?”

            “I…yes, sir.”

            “With what?”

            “A kaiju. Or…its _remnants._ They’ve forced Newton to Drift with something, some specimen they’ve preserved somehow, and it’s gone wrong.”

            “Hermann, what you’re suggesting…”

            “It happened,” Gottlieb said, leaning forward and holding his head in his hand. “It _happened._ The surges, Marshall, it’s connected with something bigger, we tried to figure it out but there was no _time._ It just…it hurt so badly, I couldn’t focus. I tried. I’m...I’m _sorry.”_

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Herc said carefully. Gottlieb looked so shaken Herc was worried he’d break down; comforting people was not one of his biggest strong suits. Gottlieb took a deep breath and tried to collect himself, rubbing harshly at his eyes.

            “You don’t believe me,” he said flatly. Herc made a helpless gesture.

            “I’m not saying that,” he said. “But ghost-Drifting and full-fledged Drifting are two different things, Hermann. _Have_ you ghosted before?”

            “No,” Gottlieb said. “But this was not….this wasn’t a dream or a hallucination. It was real, it was…”

            He fell silent, staring at the floor again. Herc sighed. Having Newt slowly going off the deep end was hard enough. He didn’t like the idea that both of his K-Science leads were losing their minds.

            “I think it’s best if you stay here for a bit,” Herc said finally. Gottlieb glared fiercely at him. “I’m concerned about you, Hermann. After everything that’s happened, I don’t feel like risking a vital person if I can help it.”

            “Nothing is going to come out from the sea for me, sir,” Gottlieb spat. “Is this concern, or to keep me out of the way?”

            “Don’t make this another fight,” Herc said, voice dropping. “You’re treading thin ice with me as is.”

            Gottlieb briefly looked like he would love more than anything to argue, but the fight suddenly died out of him and he hunched over, head hanging. The change was so alarming Herc put a hand on his shoulder, trying to rouse him again.

            “It was real,” Gottlieb said, anguished. “It was real, and he’s done something to keep me safe from it. He told me ‘goodbye’. I can’t…it’s gone quiet. There’s nothing at the other end anymore. I’m _alone.”_

He clutched at the back of his head, fingers knotting in his hair. Herc sat on the bed beside him, feeling horribly out of place as Gottlieb’s shoulders began to shake and he leaned forward as though trying to hide his face.

            “He’s _done_ something,” Gottlieb repeated. “He’s gone. I can’t find him anymore. Scunner was smothering him, I could feel it _crushing_ him. This is worse, it’s gone _numb._ It should be hurting. I’d rather it hurt than this.”

            “Hermann, he’s miles away,” Herc said cautiously. “You can’t feel Drift bonds over distances like this, even ghosting. It doesn’t work like that.”

            “It’s different,” Gottlieb said, struggling to calm down again. “You don’t understand, ours is…Rangers form bonds through machines, translated through the Jaegers. We bonded through…”

            “A kaiju.”

            “It’s always been different,” Gottlieb went on. “We bonded through something organic, something _alive,_ something utterly _wrong._ Any understanding of the Drift, it…it barely applies to us. And that bloody idiot, he’s gone and done it to himself _again_ and everything’s…damn it, I can barely _think_ straight.”

            He shrugged Herc’s hand off his shoulder harshly, pulling away. Herc drew back a bit, watching him.

            “I detested him so much at first,” Gottlieb muttered. “And he knew it. He found it _amusing._ Constantly at each other’s throats, always fighting and disagreeing. And then I found him with that wretched Pons link on his head and he was _seizing._ I was so horrified, so afraid he’d killed himself. I had never been so _frightened_ before. I grew so inured to death during the war, every _day_ was a new loss and I grew accustomed to it so I could keep functioning. And then I found that kaiju-loving halfwit bleeding and unconscious and I felt… _alone.”_

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, giving an exhausted laugh.

            “I’m afraid again,” he said, voice a thread. “I’m afraid, and I’m alone _._ Part of me is missing and I can’t _fix_ it.”

            He finally looked up at Herc, so hopelessly it was frightening to see.

            “You lost your son,” he said. “You felt him die, didn’t you?”

            An ugly twist of emotions shot through Herc; it took a moment to keep himself calm enough to be civil. This wasn’t like their argument, needling each other out of anger until they both exploded.

            “I felt something bleed out from me,” he said eventually. “It didn’t happen all at once. Kind of like a radio fading to static.”

            Gottlieb ran a hand over the back of his head again furtively, as though trying not to touch a wound.

            “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have asked you that, I…it feels like I’m changing every day. Just a bit at a time, small things. I never used to be so…”

            “Rude?” Herc asked dryly. Gottlieb looked at him in alarm. “You’re a bit rougher around the edges these days, Hermann. Hate to tell you.”

            “I’m sorry,” he said again. Herc shook his head.

            “It’s alright. Verbal filter’s gone a bit loose is all.”

            “Newt never knows when to keep quiet,” Gottlieb muttered. “His more overbearing traits seem to be the ones that bleed through strongest.”

            “Newt?”

            Gottlieb looked at Herc blankly.

            “Yes, Marshall. My idiot lab partner. The point of the conversation for the past _ten minutes_.”

            “No, you just…you always call him ‘Newton’. You never use the nickname.”

            Gottlieb sighed, running his hands through his hair.

            “It’s been a trying day, sir,” he said wearily. “I’m a bit more prone to lapses into sentimentality.”

            “I can try to contact Pitcairn,” Herc said. Gottlieb looked at him in surprise. “They may not tell me anything. But if you want, I can try.”

            “I would…appreciate that, Marshall.”

            They sat in silence for a moment, and Herc awkwardly put his hand on Gottlieb’s shoulder again. The lights flickered very briefly and Gottlieb flinched like a startled animal, looking up quickly.

            “Marshall,” he said. “Please let me out of here. I need to work.”

            “Did Newt have an idea about what’s causing them?”

            “No. Only that that he witnessed them on the mainland, and on the island. It was a surge that…ruined the Drift experiment. There was something that came online, towards the end. It pushed the kaiju away, walled it off. He was so relieved to see it…I think it was a failsafe, some kind of protection reactivating. He…pushed me away. Maybe through a barrier, something I didn’t notice. I was in too much pain, I couldn’t…”

            Gottlieb rubbed at his eyes again briefly. The lights buzzed faintly and he glanced up, then slowly over at Herc.

            “Marshall,” he repeated softly. “Something’s wrong. I can’t tell you what, not yet. But I must try and find out. You believe me, don’t you?”

            “I've learned to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Herc said. “What are you going to do?”

            “What I do best,” Gottlieb said, sitting up a bit straighter. “Find the problem and unravel it. And suggest that you speak with Miss Mori.”

            “Mako? Why?”

            Gottlieb swallowed hard, and a flicker of fear passed over his face.

            “We may need a Jaeger on our side soon.”


	22. Chapter 22

22.

 

 

            Newt woke up with his eyes already open. He was curled up on his side on an unfamiliar bed, a murmur of voices outside his door in a room he didn’t recognize. He sat up slowly, pushing himself up and squinting. The blanket fell away and he looked down at himself; no IV lines, no medical ID bracelets or bandages over injection sites. All right, that was a promising start…kind of. He rubbed at his eyes and wondered how long he had simply been staring into empty space before his brain decided to click on again.

            The voices rose and fell in muffled, rapid argument. Newt swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness made him sit down again quickly before he could fall over. He looked around for his glasses, sighing as he spotted them on top of his folded clothes, all the way across the room on a chair. He looked down at himself again; he was wearing a shapeless beige shirt and pants, ugly and utilitarian. At least he wasn’t in a hospital gown.

            Memory was spotty and it actually _hurt_ to think, the effort to concentrate setting off a dull, throbbing headache. He rubbed exhaustedly at his eyes, trying to remember where he had been or what he could have done to wind up…wherever he was.

            The headache grew a little stronger and Newt winced, touching the back of his head where the pain seemed to radiate from. It felt like something had been trying to crack his skull open, now that he thought about it. He poked at the aching spot furtively, checking for bandages or staples. No, nothing there, and his hand came away clean of blood. Maybe he’d fallen and hit his head?

            Well, whatever. He had to change out of these ridiculous hospital pajamas at the very least. Newt took a deep breath and slowly stood, arms outstretched to keep his balance. The dizziness was almost crippling and his first few steps were drunken staggers, but he forced himself to keep moving. He just had to walk it off, whatever this was. His head throbbed with pain that was starting to nauseate him, and Newt found himself winded by the time he reached the chair. He leaned against the wall and tried to take another deep breath. All right, he just had to reach down and get his clothes…

            The door swung open and a man stepped in. He looked haggard with exhaustion and stopped dead at the sight of Newt, mouth hanging open and eyes going wide.

            “Hey,” Newt said, voice very weak. Shit, who was…no, he could do this, he _knew_ this person. The name was right on the tip of his tongue. “Hey, uh…I…”

            “ _Newt,_ Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing up?” the man said, approaching him almost cautiously. “You can’t be up, c’mere, you’re gonna fall over!”

            “I’m fine,” Newt said, staring at him hard and backing away. “I’m…look, I’m sorry, what’s your name? I can’t…I _know_ it, I just can’t really…”

The man flinched as though Newt had hit him, going pale. Newt watched him uneasily.

            “Tendo,” he said softly, expression briefly agonized. “I’m _Tendo,_ Newt. Remember?”

            “I feel like I should,” Newt said, touching the back of his head again. The headache gave a vicious throb. “I’m sorry. I’m really not…I don’t feel very well.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Tendo said, his voice unsteady. “You’re awake, that’s progress at least. C’mon. Back in bed before you fall over.”

            Newt let himself be shepherded back to bed, half-collapsing into it exhaustedly. His head felt ready to burst and he curled up on his side again, trying to shield himself from the pain.

            “Where am I?”

            “Pitcairn,” Tendo said. “The infirmary.”

            “Okay,” Newt said absently. He closed his eyes, trying to will the pain to stop. It seemed to sharpen and focus, as though something about it was…alive. A _presence_ , something too big for the space it was in, trying to…

Newt bit back a cry of pain as it gave a sharp pulse, feeling a crippling sense of _interest_ reacting to his attention. Someone was speaking above him but he ignored it, trying to block everything out. No, no, it wasn’t alive, there was something wrong in him but it _wasn’t alive-_

 There was a long pause, and Newt suddenly felt something in him _move._

He gasped and jolted upright, eyes snapping open. The room was dark and he was alone again. Disoriented, he looked around and tried to get his bearings. Infirmary. Pitcairn, infirmary…it didn’t _mean_ anything. The memories were there, he could feel them behind something, a wall that shifted and drove him back every time he tried to concentrate.

“Tendo,” he called, voice thin. He shivered and wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders, grasping at the memory. “Tendo?”

The man from earlier. They knew each other. Tendo…Tendo _Choi_. Flashes of memory came with the name. Something about...shattering? No, no…Shatter-something. A name for a place. Tendo was in charge of something there. Local…local command…damn it, he couldn’t _remember._ He closed his eyes and shook his head hard, trying to break through the wall. He gasped and immediately stopped as it shifted around him, painful and cold as ice, cutting into the back of his head. No, no, he’d disturbed it, he had done something he shouldn’t have and now it was awake again.

_Awakeawake hivehivehivehivebonddrift hive awake mine minestay stay mine stay_

Newt made a frightened sound, pressing his hands hard against his ears. He couldn’t muffle the sound of it; it was coming from inside him, radiating out from the ice. It crawled through him, the voiceless words eager and loud, God, it was so _loud!_

“Quiet,” Newt muttered, panicked. “Quiet, quiet. Please, be quiet.”

He shuddered and gave a sharp, startled gasp as he felt something in the ice move again, slithering against his mind. It wasn’t a wall, it was a mass, something shapeless and shifting and biting at his brain, sinking claws into him to keep hold. It had him and it _wanted_ him.

He had promised to stay. They had almost taken him away from it but it could _follow_ now, he was so, so small and so weak, of course he couldn’t have fought them off. He had promised to stay and now he could, it was there with him, body crippled and cut to pieces and gone but no no _no_ the mind was all that mattered and he _belonged_ to it, never alone again never again _never alone again_

Newt shivered violently under the smothering rush of impressions, shaking his head as though trying to knock the thing loose. It didn’t belong in there. It was scaring him. He wanted to scratch at the back of his head until he found it and could pull it out, but he knew he would only hurt himself. It was inside him but it wasn’t really there, it knew where he was but it couldn’t see him.

What had it said? Drift…something about a drift. What the hell did that mean? Drift…hive….the mass shifted and his memory failed again, and Newt collapsed onto the bed, fear leaving him exhausted. He couldn’t remember. It didn’t _want_ him to remember. He could feel it pulling and sneaking through him, looking at the parts of his mind it had sundered from him. He was probably lucky it had let him keep his name, though he could only remember a scrap of it. He coughed and it turned into a soft, choked sob.

_My name is Newt. I’m in a place called Pitcairn and I’m sick. Someone else here knows me. His name is Tendo and I think he’s my friend. My name is Newt._

There was so much missing. Newt tried to push past the mass of the thing again, trying to reach himself. There was something else under the ice…something he hadn't noticed before, something he knew was important, though he didn't know what it was. He tried to grab at it but he was shoved violently away, his body physically rocking from the force of it.

“Give it back,” Newt hissed, clutching at his head. “Give it _back._ It’s _mine._ ”

 

_quietquietquiet mine hivedrift hive kaijuhuman kaijukaijudrift mine hive quiet rest safesafesafe mine quiet_

“Kaiju?” Newt asked, baffled. What the hell was a _kaiju?_ It meant something, something good and terrible and frightening, he could feel it even through the ice. “Is that what you are?”

 

_hunduntrespasserkarloff har d shipscissurekaiceph  kaiju kaiju self name self meathead self i a m kai  ju  name name name self hive self_

 

Names. Names, he couldn’t…no, no, he _could._ He _did_ recognize them. Trespasser- Axehead, that was the codename they gave it, the codename after it destroyed San Francisco and wandered for six days until it was killed, falling inland and poisoning the ground where it died, that’s where they built a graveyard and put broken…broken…

“Jaegers,” Newt said fiercely, spitting out the word. The ice gave a fearful shift. “ _Jaegers_ , you son of a bitch! R…Romeo…Romeo Blue, Horizon Brave, Brawler Yukon! You’re scared of them, _aren’t_ you?”

His voice was raising and he was clawing against the ice, laughing wildly as it started to recede. He had startled it, and now he was starting to scare it.

“I know about them!” he shouted. “I know about you and I know about _them!_ Ah…okay, okay….”

He slid off the bed and started to pace, a hand clutching at the back of his head. He was dizzy and the effort of standing was already weakening him, but he forced himself to move.

“No, there’s others, I know…I know it, just…Horizon…Horizon Brave, that one’s from China. Horizon Brave and Crimson…Crimson something. Tornado, Hurricane…no, storm, it’s a storm,” he said, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate. He could see it; impossibly tall, dark red, three-armed. Brothers had steered it, three of them – Crimson…

“Crimson _Typhoon,_ ” Newt shouted triumphantly. “Killed _Reckoner_ in 2016 in…in Hong Kong! I saw it, I _saw it,_ I saw what was left of it, you’re all fucking dead and _I don’t want you in my HEAD!”_

The ice seemed to contract and suddenly shattered with agonizing force. Newt fell onto his hands and knees with a hoarse scream, blood gushing out of his nose and splattering onto the floor. His door swung open and several people flooded in, trying to grab at him and help him up.

“I’m fine!” he shouted, twisting away and standing unsteadily. The ice rippled and began pooling back together and there were angry, hurt words being hissed voicelessly at him but he didn’t _care_ , he had broken through and it knew, it fucking _knew_ it wasn’t supposed to do what it had done.

“My name is _Newton Geiszler_ , you son of a bitch,” Newt said, pulling away every time one of the infirmary nurses reached for him. He knew what he looked like, clutching at his head and talking furiously to empty air. He didn’t care at all. “Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again. I’ll go back into the lab and smash your fucking fish tank myself, you understand me? I’ll tip it over and spill you all over the floor.”

 

_Alonealonealone promised mine promised promised mine stay mine hive mine_

“We’re _bonded_ , I know I have to stay,” he hissed. “But you will _never_ do that to me again. I _will_ kill you, you understand me?”

Fear shook through him profoundly, and a sense of deep betrayal. The ice receded into a tiny spot of pain at the base of his skull, pulsing in time to his heartbeat. It was a kaiju bond. A living, full-fledged kaiju bond.

“I bonded with a brain in a tank,” Newt said, laughing. Shit, this was _hysterical._ It was utterly, completely ridiculous. Gottlieb would…

Gottlieb.

Newt gave another wild laugh, running his hands roughly through his hair. He had been fully willing to sacrifice himself to make sure Gottlieb got away – hell, he thought he _had_. He would never let Newt hear the end of it now. Self-sacrifice was only noble when the gambit played through all the way.

“He’s gonna punch me in the face the minute I see him again,” he said. “Holy _shit,_ he is gonna be so mad at me.”

He looked around as though expecting Gottlieb to come storming through the door. The nurses and doctor that had rushed in were all staring at him.

“Oh,” he said, really noticing them for the first time. He snorted back blood and wiped a hand across his face. “I…I think I might pass out.”

A nurse caught him before he could collapse completely. He leaned against her exhaustedly. God, he was so tired. He could rest for a minute, maybe. The lights had switched on automatically when the door had opened, but now they buzzed, a high-pitched insect whine that made Newt shiver. The lights faded almost to nothing and he looked up at them.

“I need to talk to Doctor Lightcap,” he said, eyes never straying from the lights. The glow was almost snuffed out completely, though Newt didn’t even blink as they snapped back to full power. Somewhere outside, several bulbs overheated and shattered in tandem. “I _really_ need to talk with her.”


	23. Chapter 23

23.

 

            “ _C’mon_ , Max. You can’t stay under there forever.”

            The bulldog whined pathetically and shuffled further under Mako’s desk, staring at Raleigh. He had been trying to coax Max out from his hiding place for almost twenty minutes, leery about simply grabbing the dog in case he felt like biting; Raleigh didn’t feel like prying Max’s bear-trap jaws off his hand if he could help it.

            “Mako, I need to t- ah…Raleigh…what are you doing?”

            Raleigh rolled onto his side, realizing how ridiculous he looked laying splayed on the floor, legs sticking out from under the desk.

            “Hey, Marshall,” he said. “Just trying to get Max. He…no offense, sir, but he pisses _everywhere._ ”

            “Oh, I know it,” Herc said dryly. He whistled sharply between his teeth. “Max, c’mere!”

            The bulldog merely whined again. Herc frowned, squatting down to look under the desk.

            “What happened to him?”

            Raleigh pushed himself up and tried to clean off his sweater as best he could, sighing at the streaks of dust and grime. He nodded up towards the lights.

            “A bulb burst earlier, it scared him. He just kinda rabbited into Mako’s room. I was trying to get him before he got into something he wasn’t supposed to.”

            Herc stood, rubbing wearily at the back of his neck.

            “Just…leave him for now,” he said. He looked around the room. “Where’d Mako get to?”

            “She’s out on the bay floor with Chrome, they’re installing the plasma cannon today,” Raleigh said, looking at Herc uncertainly. “Sir, are you okay?”

            “Fine. Why?”

            “You look kind of…” Raleigh trailed off, gesturing vaguely. “Worried.”

            Herc smiled humorlessly.

            “Never did have much of a poker face,” he said. “Come with me. I need to speak with Mako, you might as well be there too.”

            They left Max to whine and snuffle forlornly under the worktable, walking side by side to the Jaeger bay. Raleigh stole glances at Herc now and then, feeling a growing sense of discomfort. The Marshall looked strained, his mouth set in a thin line.

            “Did something happen, sir?”

            “Not yet,” Herc said absently. He blinked, shaking his head at the slip. “I mean…ah, _damn_ it.”

            He stopped walking suddenly, pinching at the bridge of his nose as though staving off a headache. Raleigh watched him in definite concern; Herc didn’t make a habit of openly showing anxiety or weariness. He usually took after Pentecost’s example – playing the fixed point, trying to present a source of stability.

            “Doctor Gottlieb had an…incident, a few hours ago,” he said. “He collapsed.”

            Raleigh jolted in alarm, staring at Herc.

            “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Is he okay?”

            “Because there’s nothing you could’ve done. They had him laid up in the infirmary,” Herc said. “He’s fine, more or less. Or…”

            He shook his head, the weary expression deepening.

            “Well, no. He’s not fine. He’s alive and he’s functional, but… _Jesus,_ how did our lives get this _strange?_ ”

            “Sir?”

            Herc sighed, giving Raleigh an unreadable look.

            “You don’t find things weird these days? Jaegers, the Drift...I mean, for Chrissakes, _plasma cannons?_ It’s science fiction, all of it. It doesn’t make any goddamned sense. The world’s…it doesn’t feel real anymore.”

            Raleigh said nothing, hiding his confusion well. Herc sighed again heavily and shook his head.

            “I’m sorry, this is inappropriate,” he said. “I just…”

            “Don’t have anyone to talk to?” Raleigh asked cautiously. Herc gave him a quiet glance.

            “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Now that Stacker’s…Marshall Pentecost and I talked. We’d always bounce ideas off each other, battle plans, strategy…and just. Talk. I didn’t have time outside the Corps for other people, other friendships. Hell, I barely had time for Chuck.”

            He paused and then shook his head again.

            “No, I never _made_ time for Chuck. And now everyone’s gone.”

            He sounded bitterly frustrated. Raleigh looked from him to the floor, feeling slightly awkward. Herc had gone out of his way to welcome Raleigh back to the Corps when he first arrived in Hong Kong, but he wasn’t sure how far he could go before friendship skirted the inappropriate now. He’d had his dressing-down from Pentecost about respecting the chain of command; he had no desire to get the same from Herc.

            “Not everyone,” he said carefully. Herc glanced at him. “I mean…me and Mako are still here. And Tendo…”

            “And the K-Science team,” Herc said. “You missed the argument me and Hermann had, didn’t you?”

            “Yeah, I was helping Mako with some maintenance stuff. Heard about it, though.”

            “It was a heated exchange,” Herc said dryly. “He started it off saying I was an irresponsible…ah, how’d it go. An ‘irresponsible, ignorant tit’.”

            Raleigh’s eyes went wide in shock, and Herc laughed with a hint of real amusement.

            “Yeah. And I started _right_ back on him. No wonder he and Newt argue so much, once you get going with him it’s like playing tennis. I’ve never cussed someone out so creatively before.”

            Raleigh smiled a bit.

            “I should give it a try sometime. Almost sounds fun.”

            “It kind of was, actually. Pretty cathartic.”

            “I didn’t think he had it in him to disrespect a superior like that, though.”

            “I didn’t either,” Herc said, smiling rather sourly. “He wouldn’t have dared say something like that to Marshall Pentecost. Not sure what that says about how he sees _me.”_

“He’s kind of touchy where Newt’s concerned,” Raleigh said dryly. “I think he would’ve cussed out Marshall Pentecost too if he was in your place. He’s been half-crazy worrying about Newt since we got here.”

            “He’s lucky it’s because of Newt’s situation that he flew off the handle,” Herc muttered. “He skirted pretty damn close to being dismissed anyway. Any other reason, I would have turned him out.”

            They fell silent for a moment, Herc looking aimlessly down the corridor and rubbing at the back of his neck again. He looked very tired.

            “It _is_ weird.”

            “Hm?”

            Raleigh shrugged and smiled slightly, eager to change the subject.

            “Our lives, sir. Things are twisted around so bad it’s hard to tell which way is up half the time. I mean…c’mon, think about it. Giant monsters comin’ up out of the ocean to wreck cities? Portals between universes?”

            He shrugged again.

            “We resisted an _alien invasion_ with _giant robots._ Logic went out the window the minute Trespasser showed up. We just had the guts to respond with the right amount of…”

            “Hubris?” Herc said. Raleigh grinned.

            “That’s one way of putting it.”

            Herc smiled faintly, though it quickly faded away. He looked up at the overhead lights and watched them for a moment. Most shone bright and steady, though two of them boasted shattered bulbs that still had to be replaced.

            “C’mon,” he said, starting to walk again abruptly. Raleigh jogged to keep up with him. “Let’s find Mako.”

 

\--

 

            Chrome Brutus was an ugly Jaeger. There was no helping it, really – it was battle-scarred, spotted with rust and old splotches of kaiju blood, and more than half of it was patched over with mismatched materials scavenged from Oblivion Bay. Frankensteining the Jaeger together hadn’t been Mako’s initial plan of action; Gipsy Danger had been a project not just of necessity but also of love, taking time to restore her to a state where she was a _symbol,_ something to look at and admire. She had hoped to do the same with Chrome.

            She missed Gipsy Danger. Chrome Brutus was a solid thing, capable of taking punishment and dealing it back mercilessly. But Gipsy had been Mako and Raleigh’s Jaeger, and losing her had been like losing a limb. It didn’t help that the literal lost limb, the arm Raiju had torn off during the Breach assault, was still in Hong Kong. Mako would have liked to have it back at least for practical reasons if not the sentimental value.

            Mako watched the engineers and technicians she had been directing swarm over Chrome inside and out, sparks flowing in a river from its right arm. At least the plasma cannon would be an elegant feature on the ungainly Jaeger; Mako had made certain to copy Gipsy’s mechanics exactly. She couldn’t wait to test it out.

            The lights overhead wavered uncertainly and Mako looked up, eyes narrowing. The more frequent the power surges became, the less work was done on time. The failures were starting to damage systems, computers and consoles burning out almost as fast as they could be patched up. It was incredibly frustrating and more than a little strange, though Mako couldn’t exactly complain to anyone about it.

            With a stuttering flicker, the lights steadied and Mako’s attention turned to the Jaeger again. She tilted her head to one side and squinted a bit; if she looked at it from the right angle, it wasn’t _quite_ as ugly as she’d first thought. It looked as though it was bleeding light and fire, spilling in cascades to the bay floor. So what if it didn’t have Gipsy Danger’s grace? Cherno Alpha had been remarkably similar, all hard angles and vicious force. It was something to be proud of.

            Though she would _definitely_ have to get a fresh coat of paint for it.

            “Ah, Mako, there you are.”

             She glanced over her shoulder to find Herc marching towards her, and something about the look on his face made her snap reflexively to attention. Raleigh was trailing behind him, and he fell into place right beside her.

            “Sir,” she said. “Plasma cannon installation is half-finished, we should be running diagnostics on power draw and firing rate by this evening.”

            Herc looked up at Chrome, expression unreadable.

            “How long before she’s walking?”

            “We did a test run for mobility two days ago,” Mako said. “Her left leg is weak, half the hydraulics need to be replaced.”

            “Why replace them? Patch them up first.”

            “We _tried_ repair before replacement, sir. It is not good enough. Chrome Brutus is outdated. Anything functional about her is from new parts or salvaged material from later Jaeger models.”

            Herc hissed a surprisingly bitter curse under his breath. Mako glanced at Raleigh sidelong and he shook his head subtly. Herc met her eyes as she looked back at him, and she held herself at stiff attention.

            “I want her walking by the end of the week,” he said. Mako’s eyes widened and she felt her heart drop.

            “Sir, that’s not possible,” she protested. “My crews need time to rest between shifts, I am already taxing them.”

            “So bring more people in from the outside,” Herc said. “Hire out as many people as you need. They gave us full reign in how to restore the Jaegers. I’m authorizing _you_ to do as you see fit, Mako. Do whatever you need to. But have that Jaeger walking.”

            “It’s not just mobility, sir,” Mako said. “Her OS needs updating, there is-”

            Herc held his hand up to silence her, and Mako pressed her lips tightly together.

            “I am giving you _full autonomy_ in how you restore this Jaeger, Mako,” Herc said, voice low. “Do whatever you need to.”

            Mako studied Herc for a moment. For the briefest moment he had looked wearied and tense to the point of breaking.

            “Yes, sir,” she said carefully. A bit of the tension faded from him, and he nodded sharply.

            “Good,” he said. He looked at Raleigh. “Anything you can do to help, do it. I want reports daily. Any requisitions you need, send ‘em through me and I’ll get it done.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Herc looked up at Chrome for a moment, gaze skipping over the mismatched plating and stained hull.

            “Christ, but she’s ugly,” he muttered. Mako resisted the urge to smile at the indignant noise Raleigh couldn’t quite stifle; he had been very vocal in his admiration for her work on the restoration, confident that Herc wouldn’t be able to find any fault with Chrome’s progress. Herc gave him a wry look and Raleigh quickly looked down to the floor.

            “Sorry,” Herc said to Mako. “Guess I’m just more used to Jaegers looking a bit more…polished.”

            “Veneer wears away quickly,” Mako said mildly. “Tacit Ronin will be the showpiece for the public when we have her brought in and cleaned up.”

            “You and Ronin, ever since you were a kid,” Herc sighed. “I figured Coyote Tango would be your favorite.”

            “It was,” Mako said softly. “There isn’t much of left of her now, but I have plans for her as well.”

            “Stacker’d be happy about that,” Herc said. The faintest flicker passed over Mako’s face, emotions quickly masked. “He’d be proud of what you’re doing now.”

            Mako said nothing, merely bowing her head briefly. Herc watched her for a moment, then smiled slightly and returned the gesture.

            “Miss Mori, Mister Becket,” he said. “Get to work.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Raleigh watched Herc sweep off the bay floor with a deepening frown, then up to the lights. Mako followed his line of sight, squinting at the bright, steady overheads.

            “What is this about?” she asked. Raleigh shook his head uncertainly.

            “Something bad,” he said. “He didn’t tell me much. But I think something’s...something's coming.”

            Mako’s heart sank a notch lower and she turned to stare at Chrome, expression hardening. Raleigh mimicked her unthinkingly, both standing stiffly and scowling at the patchwork Jaeger.

            “I guess we had better get started on the real work, then.”


	24. Chapter 24

24.

 

            “What’s the point of doing this to me if they don’t even _believe me?”_

            Newt kicked the door open and stormed out into the hallway, closely followed by Lightcap and Tendo. His face was flushed and he looked furious – or humiliated. Lightcap touched his shoulder and he shrugged her off, cricking his head nervously to one side and working his jaw. Lightcap and Tendo traded looks behind his back, and Tendo gestured helplessly.

            “It’s not that they don’t believe you, Newt,” Lightcap said. “It’s just that it’s a bit much to take in.”

            “A bit…a bit _much?_ At what point has _anything_ become too much for the imagination anymore?” Newt asked acidly, turning to stare at the door to the vid-conference room as it swung slowly shut, the wall of screens blank and inactive. He rolled his shoulders and cricked his head again, suddenly running his hands viciously through his hair as though ready to rip it out and knocking his glasses askew.

            “Newt, quit it,” Tendo said quickly, grabbing him by the wrists. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

            Newt bared his teeth reflexively but Tendo ignored it, and eventually Newt stopped resisting and spread his caught hands out in appeal.

            “Alright. Alright, I’m calm, lemme go.”

            Tendo let go and Newt adjusted his glasses moodily, squinting at the door again.

            “I don’t get it. They wanted me to Drift, I Drifted. They wanted me to learn and observe, I did. I saw some _shit,_ okay? What the hell else do they _want_ from me?”

            “A story they can believe,” Lightcap said. “Maybe bringing up the whole thing with Doctor Gottlieb wasn’t the best idea, Newt.”

            “Or growling when you started getting mad,” Tendo added. Newt started to argue, then hesitated in confusion.

            “I was…I growled? I was growling?”

            “Yeah, you were. Why did you think I kept elbowing you?”

            Newt sighed heavily, shoulders sagging.

            “Ah. Well, shit. That explains the competency review.”

            “And the psych test order,” Tendo muttered. Newt gave him a dirty look. “Hey, I’m still trying to get over the last scare you gave me, okay? You had no idea who I was.”

            “I got better,” Newt said, exasperated. “I’ve got it under control.”

            “Not as much as you think,” Lightcap said, taking his hands into hers. He had curled them into fists so tight thin lines of blood were starting to well between his fingers. He looked at them in surprise and carefully unclenched his hands; wet red crescents marred his palms and there was blood under his nails.

            “Oh,” he muttered. “I didn't mean to...”

            He sighed again, head hanging a bit.

            “You guys believe me, don’t you?” he asked, voice softer. He looked up at them both wearily. “Please. I’m not…I’m not crazy, okay? I was telling the truth.”

            “I believe you,” Tendo said. Lightcap hesitated only briefly before nodding in agreement. “But you gotta try and rein it in a little, Newt. Don’t let yourself get so mad. You start losing control easier when you’re mad.”

            “I’m just sick of having to defend everything I say,” Newt said, looking down at his hands again. They were starting to hurt, blood pooling from the cuts and running along the lines in his palms. “Shit, look at this…”

            “It’s okay,” Lightcap said gently. “C’mon, we’ll get ‘em cleaned up.”

            The lights gave a deceptively soft buzz all around them, and Newt looked up.

            “How many is this today?” he asked Tendo abruptly.

            “Third one so far,” Tendo said. He shook his head, baffled. “I don’t get it. What’s _causing_ this?”

            “And how’d it knock a completely separate generator offline,” Newt muttered, mostly to himself. Lightcap watched the lights as well, quietly counting to herself as the bulbs dimmed to a pitiful brown glow. She had reached ‘twenty-two’ before the buzzing stopped and the lights snapped on again.

            “They’re getting longer,” she said. She looked down to Newt and there was a lingering shade of guilt on her face. “We should have been paying more attention to them. It just…with everything else that’s been happening…”

            “It’s not your fault,” Newt said, staring at the overhead as though waiting for it to explode. It shone bright and steady, and he looked away, blinking hard. “What were you supposed to do, track rolling blackouts all over the world?”

            “No, but looking out for the problem at home might’ve been helpful,” Lightcap said. She sighed and shrugged. “And if they’d lift the communication ban maybe we could be figuring this out faster.”

            “I can’t believe they won’t even let us call home,” Tendo muttered bitterly. Newt growled under his breath, lips pulling back from his teeth as he gave the door one last angry look. Tendo didn’t bother to reprimand him for it- he felt like giving the door a couple kicks and growling, too.

            The day had started off uncomfortably with close examinations of Newt’s report, questioning him about what had happened in the Drift as though trying to make him stumble and confess – but to what, no one was sure. It felt a bit like a witch-hunt to Newt. He’d done what was asked of him, reported the results, but since they weren’t results anyone liked all he’d earned was suspicion about his mental state and competency. It was beyond frustrating.

            “C’mon, you’re dripping,” Lightcap said, jarring him out of his thoughts. “Let’s get those cleaned up.”

            “I can do it myself,” Newt muttered, tone sour. Lightcap gave him a reproving look. “I…sorry, sorry. I can do it myself, but thank you. I won’t be long.”

            “Want me to go with you?” Tendo asked.

            “I can manage on my own for five minutes, don’t worry so much.”

            Newt left abruptly in the direction of the infirmary, trying not to leave a trail of blood drops down the hall. Lightcap watched him go and sighed again, leaning against the wall. She thumped the back of her head against it, wincing a bit at the impact.

            “This has been one of the shittiest weeks I’ve ever had,” she said dully. Tendo laughed, leaning against the wall beside her.

            “And why’s that?” he asked, wryly amused. “You weren’t the one that got trapped in a hivemind with a crazy kaiju.”

            “Well, being the one that gave him a shove right into its arms has to count for something,” Lightcap countered. She grinned vaguely. “And then thinking I killed him after we took him out of the Pons, _that_ was fun. The _look_ you gave me…”

            “Hey, in my defense? He was catatonic and bleeding,” Tendo said. “I would’ve given _anyone_ a dirty look.”

            “It wasn’t even a _dirty_ look. You just kind of stared at me like I’d shoved your mother down a flight of stairs.”

            A bark of laughter escaped Tendo and he hid his face behind one hand, peeking out at Lightcap through his fingers. She watched him and smiled crookedly.

            “Did I really?”

            “Oh, yes.”

            “Ahh, I’m sorry. I didn’t…” he trailed off, shaking his head a bit. Lightcap looked out the wide windows that spilled light into the corridor, squinting at the thin line of the sea beyond the trees. Tendo watched the wind stir the leaves, disturbing the birds jumping in the branches. He could hear them singing faintly from behind the thick plate glass.

            “They don’t believe anything he told them,” Lightcap said softly. Tendo glanced at her. “It’s too outlandish, even after everything that’s happened. They want something concrete to hold onto. They’re all still running scared, even if the monsters are shadows now.”

            “Not all of them,” Tendo murmured. “You still have one floatin’ around in a fishbowl downstairs.”

            “One tiny piece,” Lightcap said. “A sliver.”

            “So what? It’s still a kaiju. It’s still dangerous. We keep trying to apply our own logic to ‘em, that’s the problem,” Tendo said. “There aren’t things like kaiju in our world…or our universe, whichever. They don’t belong. Nothing about how our universe works even seems to touch them.”

            “I don’t know about that, the basic laws of beating something to death seem to apply fairly well.”

            “Well, yeah,” Tendo said, grinning. “Some things are never lost in translation. But…c’mon. You read his report. It built an entire world for it to hide in. It’s been alive and aware this whole time, just…waiting.”

            “And I threw him right into it,” Lightcap muttered bitterly. “I didn’t want to do any of this. I hope you believe me. I was halfway across the world getting ready to help with the new Jaeger program when they called me in.”

            “ _They_ ,” Tendo said dully. “Whoever _they_ are. Politicians?”

            “Military heads, Corps reps, a couple people from the UN,” Lightcap said. “They kind of blend together after awhile. Isn’t that awful? They run the show but they’re so faceless I can’t even remember their names.”

            “No, it’s not awful. I only remember the UN reps because I wanted to punch half of them in the face ‘til they swallowed teeth.”

            “Tendo, oh my God,” Lightcap said, startled into laughter. “That’s _horrible._ ”

            “I know! And I’m not sorry about it, either,” Tendo said, shrugging gamely. “They spit in our faces when they cut the Jaeger program off so they could fund the Walls. Mutavore knocked through the Sydney one in an hour. And Otachi had _wings._ Unless we were gonna build domes over cities next there was nothing we’d be able to do to keep them out.”

            “Sticking your head in the ground only works for so long,” Lightcap said softly, watching the birds and leaning forward a bit to try and hear them sing. “The next step probably _would_ have been to go underground.”

            “Really?”

            “Just a theory. Fallout shelters were the preeminent promise of survival during the Cold War, so why not recycle the idea? Someone would be clever enough to pitch it eventually.”

            “And all the people on the coasts could sit and watch the monsters roll in with the tide,” Tendo muttered. Lightcap nodded, looking faintly amused.

            “Inland cities back home are half-empty these days, did you know that?” she asked. “Almost no one can afford the cost to live there. Everyone’s been pushed out to the coastlines. The kaiju wouldn’t have to go very far to start wiping out massed populations. They’ve got extermination honed to an art.”

            “I know. I’ve seen it. I lived in San Francisco almost my whole life,” Tendo said. “Trespasser trashed it right on top of me. The day after it first showed up, I just kind of…wandered for a while. Didn’t know where to go. Everything was burning and smashed. I had to leave…”

            His voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat, fingers twisting unconsciously at his rosary.

            “Yeye. My grandfather, I mean. I couldn’t carry him. The Blue poisoned him so fast and I couldn’t do anything to…I stayed with him almost all night after he was gone,” he said softly. “But by morning Trespasser was coming back for what was left of the city and it was bringing the Army with it. I didn’t want to die. So I just…got up. I got up and left him where he’d died, and I wandered.”

            His expression had gone masklike, eyes staring past the trees and to the blue line of the ocean. Lightcap watched him silently.

            “I don’t even remember how I got out of the city,” he continued. “It felt like I was outside myself. One minute I was walking through rubble, then all of a sudden I was in an Army camp and someone was putting a shock blanket on me and asking me if I’d come in contact with ‘contaminants’. They put all the people with Blue poisoning in another camp right next door. You could…you could hear ‘em dying.”

            Lightcap had gone pale, but she kept quiet. Tendo stared unblinkingly out the window, slouching against the wall. He shook his head slightly, life slowly creeping back into his expression.

            “And after surviving all that, I wind up working with _Newt._ "

"Didn't like him at first?"

"I wanted to pop him in the mouth the first time I met him,” Tendo said, a faint thread of humor in his voice. “He was talking with Marshall Pentecost about harvesting samples from…ah, shit, I don’t even remember which one it was. Going on about how incredible it was, how important it was to get to it before someone was careless and damaged it, on and on.”

            “Seems like good work ethic.”

            “ _Ha_. You’d think so. He just wanted to get to it because he wanted to see it up close. He kept talking about how _cool_ it was, how _amazing_ it was. I’d just started up at LOCCENT, I was shadowing Pentecost to learn the ropes. And I had to listen to Newt just… _yammer_ about how incredible kaiju were.”

            “But you didn’t punch him, I hope?”

            “No. Wanted to, though. But…then I got to know him better,” Tendo said, glancing at Lightcap in mild amusement. “He’s wired different. He sees things in a way a lot of people don’t and he breaks them apart to learn everything he can from them. It never occurs to him how other people feel about his interests. And hell, he’d _probably_ start making his own if he had the know-how.”

            “His own…you really think he’d make his own kaiju?”

            “He can’t leave well enough alone,” Tendo said, shrugging. “It’s not out of the question. Especially now that he knows how they think. He’s got a living bond with one. If he thought it was possible…”

            “It’s not,” Lightcap said. “His first reports touched on how the kaiju are made. He described it as them being woven together. Bioengineering to that degree is…I doubt we’ll _ever_ get to that level of technology.”

            “The ones that made ‘em probably didn’t either, not on their own,” Tendo muttered. “They _steal_. They come in like a disease and sweep over everything. Someone else came up with the technology and they _took_ it.”

            “All conquerors do the same thing,” Lightcap said. “If they want it, they’ll do what they have to until they can take it.”

            “And they want Earth, God knows why.”

            “They _did_ find it first, apparently.”

            “I never heard of anyone finding the flag that staked their claim,” Tendo muttered. “Why even come here? What’s so special about this place that they’d cross a _universe_ to get it?”

            “Maybe they know something we don’t,” Lightcap said. Sunlight shone through the dense trees outside the window, throwing green-hued shadows broken with bright spots of light on the floor and walls. Tendo and Lightcap fell silent, listening to the faint hints of birdsong.

            “Why did we put him through this?” he asked eventually. “He didn’t learn anything from it. And now there’s another one in his head.”

            “Counter-measures,” Lightcap said. “Learning them from the inside out so we could kill them better.”

            “Is that it? That’s all there is to this?”

            “It’s all anyone wanted. Newt’s the one that wants to understand them. The rest of the world just wants to burn them.”

            “What about you? Is that all you want?”

            “I just want to stop being afraid every day,” Lightcap said wearily. She looked at Tendo. “Don’t you?”

            “I don’t know what that’s like anymore,” he said, shrugging. “It’s always there. It’s part of me now. I think it’s how I keep functioning at all sometimes. I use it to keep going.”

            “We shouldn’t have to live like this.”

            “It’s not living. Not the way we used to. It’s enduring,” Tendo said, smiling faintly at some private, painful memory. “I don’t think we’re the ones that get to live without fear anymore. We take the blows as they come so that _other_ people don’t have to wake up wondering if the end’s gonna come for them.”

            “The last shield against the storm? Is that all we get to be?”

            “There’s worse things.”

            “I’m not sure I like your brand of optimism,” Lightcap said dryly. Tendo laughed.

            “You have anything _else_ you wish you were?”

            Lightcap fell silent for a moment, watching the shadows of leaves and birds move across the floor. She smiled briefly, shaking her head.

            “No.”

            “Me either,” Tendo said. “I mean, I wish it made a little more _sense_ sometimes, but if it’s gotta be aliens and Jaegers and mad science, fine. I’ll roll with it.”

            “Look at it this way. If it made sense, it wouldn’t be as exciting.”

            “If you say so,” Tendo said, grinning a bit. He pushed away from the wall and Lightcap followed suit, and they studied each other for a moment. “I’m sorry if I’ve been difficult, Doctor.”

            “I haven’t been the most accommodating either,” Lightcap said. She stuck her hand out. “Truce?”

            Tendo shook it, inclining his head.

            “Truce.”

            “Well. One problem out of a thousand settled, then,” she said. “Ready to face down the rest of them?”

            “Might as well. Anything in particular?”

            Lightcap glanced up, watching the overheads as though daring them to flicker and fail again.

            “Just the one I should have seen from the start, I think.”

 

           

 


	25. Chapter 25

25.

 

            The sun had set almost an hour ago but Newt hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on. He lay on his bed, one leg dangling off the side and his hands resting gingerly on his chest; they ached where he’d accidentally cut into himself, and the bandages were annoyingly itchy.  No one had questioned why he had injured himself, at least.

            The day had been exhausting and infuriating, but he supposed he was lucky Pitcairn wasn’t turning into Hong Kong all over again. Aside from Lightcap and her lab assistants no one really knew about the Drift experiment or its aftermath. At least one aspect of Pitcairn’s obsessive control over communications was beneficial; no one was shunning him or looking at him like he was a freak of nature. Even the infirmary staff seemed okay around him – but maybe that was more because he hadn’t tried to bite anyone’s fingers off when they examined him.

            Newt shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to scratch at the back of his head. He had started to scrape the icy, prickling point at the base of his skull until it was raw, and Tendo had threatened to put mittens on him if he didn’t stop worrying at it. It barely even registered as pain after everything else he had endured but the irritation of it was inescapable; it was like someone was pressing a sharp shard of ice into him. He shifted again and thumped his head wearily against the flat pillow, frustrated.

            Newt’s leg swung idly off the bed’s edge, the toe of his boot scraping slightly against the concrete floor. He was bored but didn’t have the will to get up, tired but unable to sleep. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind hissing through leaves and let himself pretend for a moment that it was the sound of waves breaking on the shore. He missed the sound of the ocean; his quarters in Hong Kong had looked out onto the coastline, bringing in the sound of passing ships, waves and gulls.

            The wind picked up and the hissing white noise grew louder. Newt settled more comfortably on his bed and tried to focus on the sound and to not think of home. There was only loneliness with that train of thought, wanting familiar surroundings and people and knowing there was no way to go back. Already he could feel it starting. It felt like a kind of starvation; he wanted a scrap of home, something to cling to when the want grew too strong.

            Newt sighed, running his hands wearily over his face and wincing as the rough bandages scraped against him. He hadn’t meant to hurt himself; he hadn’t even been aware of what he was doing. At least now he had a set of scars to match what he had inflicted on Mako and Gottlieb; Mako had accepted his multiple apologies gracefully but Gottlieb had dismissed them, saying over and over that Newt didn’t have to apologize for something _he_ hadn’t done. Newt sighed heavily and rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket awkwardly over himself and getting tangled up in it.

             He wanted the entire mess to be over. It had dragged on for so long he could barely recall a time when he wasn’t anxious or fearful or angry, and it had begun to feel like his entire personality was being warped and worn away. Someone new was creeping into his skin, someone bitter and exhausted and constantly, fiercely _angry._

He wanted to be himself again. He wanted to go home, argue with Gottlieb over something stupid, play his music too loud, go to sleep late on top of a report that he would habitually turn in at least two days late, and wake up to start the whole cycle again. Instead he was in a concrete closet of a room in the middle of nowhere, and his closest companion was the new monster lurking in the dark when he closed his eyes.

            Newt dragged the blanket over his head and curled up under it, an arm hanging off the rather too-small bed’s edge, fighting the unnatural urge to growl in frustration. He kept catching himself quietly growling or hissing under his breath, constant animalistic noises he couldn’t seem to stifle. He was even moving differently; his steps heavier and more deliberate and his motions slower, as though he thought his body was heavier and bigger.

            The ice gave another prickling, painful shift and Newt snarled silently, teeth gritting. He didn’t feel human at all anymore. Tendo and Lightcap were being as supportive about everything as he could have hoped for, but there was a limit to what they could understand. Hell, he could barely understand any of it himself anymore. He was just too damned tired, and it was almost too much effort to try.

            Newt closed his eyes and tried to ignore the icy prickling, forcing himself to focus on the wind outside instead. It really did sound like waves; he had figured he would have had some kind of irrational phobia of the ocean by now, but it was soothing to listen to. If he strained he could hear very faint cries of gulls – or maybe he was simply imagining them. The wind rose and fell cyclically, hissing through leaves like breakers crashing against the shore. Newt timed his breathing to the sound of it; he felt isolated, surrounding by the dark and hissing white noise, and it nothing but a relief. Nothing could touch him if he didn’t want to let it in.

            The ice prickled and shifted again but he barely registered it, drowsiness finally setting in. The waves of wind were in synch with his slowing breaths, rising with each inhale, and softly crashing with each exhale. Newt felt himself growing colder, the ice radiating from the point in his head to trickle down his spine, radiating through his body. He was too tired to care; he just needed a moment to rest…

            His arm was still hanging off the edge of his bed, and his fingers skimmed the surface of cold, still water.

            Newt’s eyes snapped open and he yanked his arm back, sitting up. The bed and his tangled blanket were gone; _everything_ was gone. The sky above him wasn’t shattered, at least – it was vast, greyish-blue and broken with a sparse scattering of stars. The water stretched in every direction, smooth and still. Newt rolled to his feet and took an uncertain step forward. It was like walking on a glass floor but when Newt knelt down to poke at it his fingers broke through the surface, ripples spreading in a wide ring around him. He straightened and wiped his hand dry on his shirt.

            “Huh.”

            The ripples were a barely-there disturbance in the water that spread hundreds of feet wide. Newt wondered with the detachment of a dreamer why his steps didn’t break through the surface, giving an experimental kick. Water sprayed in a plume from the impact, spawning a hundred new rings that expanded in every direction. Well, that was kind of interesting, wasn’t it? The sky grew a shade darker above him, the faint stars starting to multiply. Newt looked up at them in interest; red, ember-like pricks of light were starting to appear. Thin, straggling veils of gas faded into view, creeping from one horizon to the other. Newt supposed he should be worried about the Anteverse’s sky starting to phase into view, but it just didn’t seem very important. He didn’t feel afraid of it. It was a little comforting to look at, actually – a scrap of someone else’s home, a memory to hold onto when the loneliness began to overwhelm.

            Something moved under the water. A flash of movement and faint grey light; something enormous and slow-moving, trying to stay out of sight. Newt could feel the kaiju below him, the bond practically vibrating with impressions and thoughts it was trying to hide from him. It was a mess of noise and half-smothered emotions but Newt could still glean meaning from it.

            It was _afraid_ of him.

            The realization was startling. Newt stared down into the dark, trying to follow the flickers of light. He had scared it so badly it had tried to withdraw from him, but the bond wouldn’t let it escape completely.  It hadn’t drawn him to this place, whatever it was, and it was getting rather desperate to get away from him again.

            “You can’t,” Newt said softly, searching the murky water for some sign of it. “You wanted to bond with me, this is what happens.”

            He had never ghosted properly before. The bond he had with Gottlieb had been smothered first by the dead kaiju bonds, and now was buried under the ice of the new connection. Newt had never taken the time to wonder why he couldn’t feel the Drift bond as strongly as Gottlieb did; maybe Drifting with him properly would have fixed the issue. Hell, it might even have spared him the residual kaiju memories and hallucinations, pushing the dead bonds away from the healthy living one. Why did the idea only occur to him now, when it was too late to fix things? Newt sighed slightly and shook his head, annoyed.

            “You might as well come up,” he said, settling down onto the ground, such as it was. “You’re the one that wanted to keep me.”

 

            _angerangerangerfear alonealonealone no no no alone no hive nohivenohive alone angerfearalone_

Anger? It didn’t feel angry at all. If anything it felt even more fearful and lonely than before. Newt drew his fingertips across the water’s surface, watching the ripples spread. Anger, fear…

            “Oh… _oh_. Wait. You mean _me,_ don’t you?”

            The voiceless words dropped to a faint whisper, unintelligible. Newt shook his head slightly.

            “I’m…I’m not angry anymore.”

 

            _Alonealonealone humanalone deathdeathdeathsilence alone hidehidehidehidehide_

            Newt winced. Shit. He really _had_ scared it.

            “I’m not going to…look, will you just come up already?”

            The absurdity of it all was incredible. He was ghost-Drifting with a kaiju and it was scared shitless of him. It was a broken, miserable thing and he had threatened to kill it; no wonder it wanted to get away from him. Kaiju were born from cruelty and died in fear and agony - people would abhor him if he said it out loud, but Newt was realizing more and more that they were victims just as much as anyone else.

            God forbid he ever say it in front of someone like Raleigh or Herc, though. They would probably punch him in the face on principle alone.

 

            _raleighhuman humanjaegerjaeger ja eger human han s en marshall humanhuman human? human know human knowknowsee learn see_

            “Yep, you got it,” Newt said. “I know humans. A couple of ‘em even think _I’m_ human too, Christ knows why.”

 

            _Humanangeranger fear painpain drifthivedriftdrift anger?anger? failure anger fearfear fear_

            “I _told_ you, I’m not angry anymore. You didn’t…wait, what do you think you failed?”

            There was only silence and Newt leaned forward, squinting downwards. He could see the faintest outline of a massive body, pinprick-eyes blinking slowly as it stared up at him.

            “They wanted you to learn,” he said softly to it. “I remember, that’s what the first directive kept enforcing. ‘See, learn, study’, right?”

 

            _directive? Directivedirective needneedneed silence onl y silence no    directive_

            _“_ I know. They’re gone, there’s nobody to give you orders anymore,” Newt said. “Not like you could do much anyway. There’s nothing _left_ of you.”

            They studied each other unblinkingly, the kaiju rising a little closer to the surface. If he looked closely Newt could vaguely see the current shape of its body; Trespasser, judging by the silhouette.

 

            _hive remains enduressurvives kaijukaijuhivehuman drift hive?drift diff erent_

“Yeah, it’s different,” Newt said dryly. “Glad you finally understand that at least.”

            The kaiju hovered just beneath the surface, staring up at Newt. He put his palm down flat against the water, the tip of Trespasser’s blade-like horn inches away.

            “I won’t yell at you again, if that’s what you’re afraid of. C’mon, I’m a _speck_ compared to you. I can’t hurt you here.”

           

            _Hurthurthurtpainfear angerangeranger fear pain did  no t  mean_

            “I know you didn’t mean to,” Newt sighed, head hanging wearily. It felt like he was talking to a demented five year old. “Do you…look, do you understand why I was angry? Why I pushed you out?”

           

_anger pain drifdriftdrifthumanpartner drift bond bond anger fearfearfear angerangerang e r did not mean failedfailedfailed fear anger fear alonealone_

            “Shh. Shh, don’t start with that again, calm down,” Newt said, reaching down through the water. His fingers brushed against Trespasser and it started at the contact. “You’re fine. I’m not angry anymore. You scared me and I got mad, I’m sorry, okay? You’re not alone anymore, you’re alright…”

            The sense of relief that flooded through Newt from the bond was almost pitiful. Trespasser broke through the surface, changing to Meathead as it crested from the water. It butted up against Newt’s hand like an attention-starved animal, a soft growl rattling at the back of its throat.

            “I always wanted a pet dinosaur,” Newt said, grinning slightly. Meathead gave him a startlingly lucid glance. “Sorry, sorry. You’re not a pet.”

            The kaiju rested its head down on the ground, half in and half out of the water. Newt sat silently with it, running his hand along the iron-hard scales of its muzzle. It was almost funny how calmly Newt was accepting the situation; his life had reached a point of weirdness that this wasn’t even the strangest thing he’d done within the past month.

            “So what were you trying to learn from me?” he asked. Meathead looked at him uneasily, shifting its head away. “No, I’m curious. You were looking at things, I could tell. What were you looking for?”

           

            _selfself hive self_

 

            “That’s not an answer. Were you just snooping around in there?”

            Meathead growled a little louder, teeth clicking.

 

            _Humangeiszlerhumanhive self self self_

“You just…wanted to learn about me?” Newt asked. “Kind of a drastic way to get to know somebody.”

            Meathead shook itself, body twisting into Hundun. It stared at him and shifted again, its body smoke and vapor as it switched from one aspect to the next. Scissure, Karloff, Hardship, Kaiceph, Hundun, Trespasser- again and again it changed as Newt watched.

 

            _Self,_ it whispered. _Self._

“I’m not…no, see, you’re getting confused about it again,” Newt said. “I’m not in your hive, okay? We Drifted. It’s different.”

 

            _Driftdrift jaegerdrift jaegerPonsbridge painfear hive learnseestudy_

“Ah. You, uh…you found that, huh?” Newt asked. “Not the best idea I ever had.”

           

            _See learn study fearfearpain see study samesamesamesamesame_

            “Yeah. I guess it kind of is the same, isn’t it? We both had a job to do. I just kind of…fucked up when I tried. Both times. Shouldn’t have done it at all, but if I didn’t…” Newt trailed off, scowling slightly. He could feel the kaiju staring at him. “I shouldn’t have let anyone help me the second time, either. I was gonna do it alone. I shouldn’t have let him help.”

            Newt pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged his arms around his knees, resting his head down against them.

            “Everything I touch, I ruin,” he said, voice muffled. “I can’t even sense anything to see if he’s okay, _you’re_ in the way. I’m so…this is so fucking stupid. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

            The kaiju butted against him again, careful not to knock him over. Newt tried uselessly to push it away; it was like trying to shove back a brick wall. Meathead had changed again to Hardship and it watched him keenly.

            “You want to know about me?” he asked it. “I’m an idiot. That’s all you need to know.”

           

            _Directivedirective follow directive see study learn_

            “I…yeah. That was my directive,” Newt said, tracing a hand idly through the water again. He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted it; it was briny and cold, like seawater. “I followed it as best I could. But I did some really stupid shit along the way.”

            The kaiju was staring at him with unnerving intensity, and Newt looked at it uncertainly.

            “What? What’d I say?”

           

            _directive y ou  have directive?directivedirective needneed need guide orderorderorder gi  v e    di rec    tive_

The need was so strong it was making Newt anxious and he edged away from Hardship, trying to shut out the surge of emotions thrumming through the bond.

            “Okay,” he said quickly. “Okay, just calm down! You know what my directive was, you saw what I did because of it. The Breach closed because of what I did.”

           

            _Directivedirective give give bonddrifthive give directive self self h as directive give directive to hive hi ve is self_

Newt put his hands on Hardship’s muzzle and it quieted, though its body shivered tense as a bowstring. Its thoughts banked and withdrew from the bond before it could overwhelm Newt, but he could feel the mad desperation at the edge of his mind.

            “Okay,” he said. “I’ll give it to you. My directive was to stop your masters, you understand that? That’s the only order I had. That was my purpose then. It still is. But I’ll give that to you if you want it.”

           

            Hardship closed its eyes, the desperation growing stronger again. Kaiju were made to be steered, but it didn’t make Newt feel any better about it; he felt like he was giving a scrap of food to a dying animal so it would stop whining.

            “Stop them,” he whispered to it. “That’s the directive I was given. No matter what it takes or what happens to you. Stop them.”

            Hardship shuddered profoundly and Newt mimicked it, icy pain twisting in the back of his head and creeping through his body, numbing him. He felt momentarily panicked, certain he’d done something stupid all over again…but the feeling eased, the bond settling down again into the tiny spot of ice. Meathead was nothing but a scrap of meat in a jar. It couldn’t do anything. All Newt had done was give it something else to cling to so it could cope.

            “There,” he said to the kaiju, running his hand across its muzzle again. “Happy? We’re real Drift partners now. I gave you something of mine that’s important. That means I trust you, you get it?”

            Hardship growled deep in its throat, eyes flickering shut. The tension had visibly eased from it, the desperation silenced within the bond.

 

            _Tradetradetrade seelearnstudy give give to  hu man bonddrifthive give learn?learn? see study learn give_

            Newt stared at it, wryly amused. It didn’t know anything useful but here it was offering up a chance to learn anyway.

            “Wish it could’ve been this easy from the start,” he said. “Alright. You promise not to fry my brain?”

            One of Hardship’s eyes cracked open and it gave him a look, and some of Newt’s amusement faded as they watched each other. Drifting was a two-way street, that’s what everyone said. Newt had to deal with shades and shadows of the kaiju’s personality, its borderline feral nature bleeding through him. Who was to say there wasn’t a little bit of himself being sent right back?

            “You understand a lot more than you let on, don’t you,” he asked it. Hardship merely watched him, pupil constricting to a tight slit. “If I ask you, what are you going to show me?”

            _homehome home hive home pre cursors h ome_

           

            “Precursors,” Newt muttered. There was that word again. “Okay. Alright, let’s do this the right way if we’re gonna do it at all. Show me about them first.”

            The bond seemed to vibrate like a plucked string and Newt suddenly gasped, holding his hands up.

            “Carefully! Show me _carefully!”_

Hardship snorted out an odd noise and the vibration eased a little. Newt gave a relieved sigh; that had been a little too close for comfort. Ghost-Drifting might not be as steady and strong a connection as a real Drift, but he still didn’t feel like having his brain fried if he could help it.

            He could feel the kaiju waiting expectantly on the other side of the bond, wanting to be let in. It was probably a stupid thing Newt was doing, but on the scale of measure it barely registered against everything else he’d done. Newt closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath, focusing on the icy bond.

            He let go, and the kaiju flooded in.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

 

 

 

            “ _I’m getting sick of waiting.”_

Liang didn’t flinch at Chau’s tone, staring steadily at the vidcall screen.

            “Hansen’s almost never alone,” she said evenly. “And his office is locked when he’s not in it. I’m not trained in _espionage,_ sir.”

            “ _Don’t get mouthy with me. I told you to keep an eye on him, what the hell have you even been doing? You better not just be moonin’ over that goddamned rockabilly asshole.”_

            “Choi’s not even here,” Liang said, more sharply than she should have. “Hansen knows my _face,_ sir. It’s hard enough keeping a low profile. He catches me going into his office, it’s over.”

            Chau sighed heavily, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing at his bad eye. Liang finally looked away; Chau’s damaged eye disgusted her and she found she couldn’t stand to look him in the face when it was uncovered.

            “ _So basically you’re telling me you’re just wasting time and ducking around the place like a scared mouse,”_ he said acidly.“ _Tell me you have at least one thing to report back, this is an expensive call.”_

 _“_ They’re almost done repairing Chrome Brutus,” Liang said. “She’s ugly as sin, but she’s almost battle-ready.”

            _“So?”_

            “So, she wasn’t even ready to walk at the beginning of the week. They’re bringing in people from outside the Corps to help with work all over the Shatterdome. A lot of contractors, construction…”

            “ _They’re gearing up for war. I already know this. Why are you just throwing repeat intel at me like you think this is earth-shattering?”_

Liang resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Chau was incredibly short-sighted when something fell outside his interests. Give him a kaiju carcass and it would take a miracle to shut him up about it. Give him practical news and he either ignored it or passed it over to someone else to look into.

            “Are there power surges where you are, sir?”

            “ _What?”_

Liang gestured upwards. Her basement quarters were cramped, uncomfortable and poorly furnished, a half-dead overhead lamp the only source of light. It was steady now, but an hour ago Liang had sat through another power surge that had left her in complete darkness for almost a full minute.

            “You haven’t been noticing them? They’re happening _everywhere._ ”

            “ _Where are you even going with this?”_

“ _They’re_ the reason Chrome’s nearly finished, and why they’re starting up on the second wreck already. I’ve followed as much of his communications as I can. Hansen and his crew are talking to other ‘domes globally to track them. Doctor Gottlieb’s been trying to pinpoint where they’re coming from.”

            Chau shrugged, casting a look over his shoulder into the indistinct background.

            “ _Haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. The cripple come up with a good theory yet?”_

“He’s not a cripple,” Liang said. Chau gave her a baffled look and she cleared her throat awkwardly. “He…no, sir. Not yet.”

            _“So why should I care? The world’s turned to shit, power failures are probably the least important thing to worry about.”_

“They don’t seem to think so.”

            _“Well, nobody said the Corps had a good stock of smart people. Even the geniuses are goddamned idiots, look what that Sid Vicious wannabe did to himself. I suppose you don’t have any news about him, do you?”_

Liang hesitated only briefly. She skimmed the vidcall records daily and had found Herc’s fruitless calls to Pitcairn, being bounced back with every attempt to find out about Newt; she didn’t know the nature of the accident that had Herc so worried or how he even knew about it, but the sixth and seventh calls had been less angry at being ignored than…sad, almost. And a little scared, too.

            “He hasn’t even been mentioned, sir. I don’t think he’s important to anyone now that there’s no active kaiju activity.”

            Chau grunted irritably, finally putting his sunglasses back on. Liang didn’t mind lying to him in the slightest. His cold, greedy interest in Newt reminded Liang of how he regarded kaiju corpses; something to dissect and warp to Chau’s own ends, uncaring of the consequences. She didn’t know much about Newt but she doubted he’d last a week if Chau managed to sink his claws into him.

            “ _Well, it’s not much, but the contractors are probably a good way to put a little pressure on Hansen. See if there’s anyone to buy off. Problems putting his tin soldiers back together should make him desperate after a while.”_

Liang stared at Chau, shaking her head slightly.

            “Sir, we can’t-”

            Chau’s expression silenced her, and she sank back reflexively into her chair as he leaned closer to the screen.

            “ _We can and will,”_ he said. “ _Don’t start actin’ like one of those Corps drones. You work for me, not Crocodile Dundee.”_

“But-”

“ _The next words out of your mouth better be ‘yes sir’. I’m not givin’ you suggestions, I’m givin’ you an order.”_

Liang didn’t look away as Chau glowered at her, but she was a little surprised at how bitterly the answer came out.

            “ _Yes,_ sir.”

            _“Good. Anything else?_ ”

            “No, sir.”

             “ _Alright. Cozy up to as many of those contractors as you can. Promise ‘em the usual rates, we’ll work out the details after they’re on board.”_

            The call ended abruptly and the screen went blank. Liang sat silently for a long moment, anger burning deep in her chest. Details. Funding they would have to scrape for, favors to return and dirty work to do. Liang felt wrung out and tired just thinking about it, leaning forward on her desk and pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. Why couldn’t he have just _died_ that night _?_ Anyone else would have been ripped apart or wasting away from the Blue.

            She had promised herself she wouldn’t interfere with the Jaegers. Did she have so little respect for herself that she would let Chau push her to do something she didn’t want to? He was miles away; she could lie, say that none of the contractors had risen to the bait. But how long would he _believe_ her, that was the problem.

            Frustrated, Liang slammed her hand down on the console’s keyboard to shut it off. The bright holographic display winked out and left her in murky half-darkness. Above her, the lone light giving a single dismal flicker and she glanced up, wondering briefly at it. Herc’s calls hadn’t been the only ones she’d found; Gottlieb had been getting chatty the past day or two, reaching out all over the place. If he knew anything about the surges he wasn’t saying, but he was certainly getting more active asking around about them.

            The light flickered again, and Liang sighed in annoyance as it went out completely.  

 

\--

 

 

            The laboratory was a mess. Herc had never known Gottlieb to be anything other than tidy and orderly; the lab looked as though a tornado had ripped through it and then backtracked in case it had missed anything the first time.

            “Doctor Gottlieb.”

            Gottlieb ignored him, caught up in his work at the blackboard. It was pitifully small compared to the set-up he’d had in Hong Kong, and he was scraping chalk across it in vicious strokes, eating up space. Herc watched him in puzzlement as Gottlieb wrote several long, messy lines of calculations, and then suddenly swiped his hand across them, only to start writing all over again on the smears.

            “Hermann?”

            Gottlieb jolted, the chalk falling and breaking to pieces on the floor, joining the litter of papers and other broken scraps of chalk under his feet.

            “ _What?”_ he asked sharply, turning around on his heel. His senses caught up to him when he met Herc’s gaze and Gottlieb flushed. “I…I’m sorry, sir. Excuse me. I didn’t…”

            “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Herc said, staring past Gottlieb at the chalkboard. “What is all this?”

            “Work, sir.”

            Calculations and scribbled notes covered every inch of the board, crawling up and down along the sides and squeezed in tight margins. If Herc didn’t know any better he would have thought it was the scribblings of a madman, meaningless symbols and words that made sense only to a broken mind. He gave Gottlieb a sidelong glance; the man certainly _did_ look worse for wear.

            “I should…I should be getting back to it, sir. Is there something you needed?”

            “Hermann, you called me down twenty minutes ago,” Herc said warily. “I told you I was coming. Remember?”

            Gottlieb looked briefly confused but then nodded abruptly.

            “Ah. Yes, yes. Yes, I remember. I’m sorry, excuse me. I…”

            He looked around aimlessly, turning in a half-circle to look at the blackboard and staring at it blankly, visibly trying to pull his thoughts together. Herc put a hand on his shoulder, growing more and more concerned by the second.

            “Hey,” he said. Gottlieb ignored him and Herc gave him a small shake. “ _Hey._ Hermann, look at me. You okay?”

            Gottlieb rocked slightly, his grip on his cane slipping. He put a hand out and leaned against the board to catch himself before he could lose his balance, snapping back to reality.

            “Yes, sir,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I’m sorry. I haven’t…I can’t even recall the last time I slept. It’s catching up to me.”  
            “Why? What’s going on?”

            Gottlieb shrugged off Herc’s hand, trying to collect himself again. He wiped his hand absently on his coat, leaving a broad white streak over the fine coating already dusting him.

            “Nothing’s going on,” he said absently. “I just don’t want to sleep.”

            “You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate,” Herc said, looking around the lab again. “Have you been eating?”

            “Maybe. I don’t recall that, either.”

            “ _Jesus_ , Hermann…”

            “I’m fine,” Gottlieb said abruptly. “I’ve made a breakthrough.”

            Herc hated that his concern for Gottlieb took an instant backseat, but it couldn’t be helped.

            “You’ve got my attention. What’ve you found out?”

            Gottlieb pointed to a particularly dense knot of numbers, tapping hard at the blackboard. Herc studied them briefly.

            “What is this?”

            “Times,” Gottlieb said. “The outages have been growing longer, building up a few seconds each time the power fails. Starting from this morning, there’s been an accumulated _twenty_ additional seconds from when a surge begins to when it ends. And they are growing more frequent.”

            Herc stepped back as Gottlieb began to pace in front of his board, gesturing broadly as he spoke.

            “We are already on our eighth surge today,” he continued. “I have been trying for days to track points of origin, some indicators of increased energy, _anything._ They do not issue energy, sir, they _disrupt_ it.”

            “Disrupt it?”

            Gottlieb slammed his hand against the blackboard in an erratic burst of enthusiasm, wheeling around to look at Herc. His face had flushed, eyes feverishly bright.

            “They don’t leave a trail of energy, they leave an _absence,_ ” he said. “Dead zones that ripple outwards like…like rings on water. _Waves._ The dead zones have no single set location, they seem to appear at random. I’ve only been able to trace the ones that appear in populated areas, but it is likely they’re appearing in other spaces.”

            “Like the ocean?” Herc asked, very quietly. Some of the enthusiasm died out of Gottlieb and he looked away.

            “Perhaps,” he said. “I cannot say for sure.”

            “But you think so.”

            Gottlieb was silent, both hands grasping tightly on the head of his cane. Herc shifted uncomfortably.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please, continue.”

            Gottlieb turned away, looking up at the blackboard again. He searched it for a moment before finding the correct lines of calculations, pointing to them.

            “The dead zones are growing larger with each subsequent surge,” he said, voice faltering at first. “Knocking out bigger blocks at a time when they form. The latest one I could find was in Johannesburg, about forty-five minutes ago.”

"South Africa? How'd you even find it?"

"Listening in to the police scanner, as it were," Gottlieb said. "The outages are miniature states of emergency in some cities. All I had to do was find a report and investigate. Doesn't hurt that dropping yours and the Corps' names gives me access to information not privy to the public eye. It's rather enjoyable to pull rank."

            “It can be," Herc said wryly. He nodded towards the blackboard again. "So we just had a surge not even twenty minutes ago. The lights went out while I was walking up here.”

            “Yes. We felt the effects of Johannesburg’s dead zone, and that wave is traveling _globally,_ ” Gottlieb said, voice gaining a note of frantic energy again. “The speed this… _shockwave_ is traveling at…”

            He trailed off for a moment, shaking his head. Herc stared at the barely-legible calculations, trying to tease out meaning by himself. He could almost feel a headache forming as he looked from one string of numbers to the next, and he gave up.

            “Any clue as to what’s causing them?”

            “Not officially,” Gottlieb said. “But I do have a distinct suspicion.”

            “We detonated a nuke that would have atomized a city,” Herc said in an undertone. “They can’t have bounced back from that, not this quickly.”

            “I’d hesitate to call it bouncing back, sir,” Gottlieb said, starting to pace again. “Consider how long we’ve been having the surges. We’re skirting three months now, and _only_ now are they beginning to gain noticeable strength. This is…”

            He shook his head hard, the fevered expression returning.

            “Again and again and _again_ it happens,” he said. “All over the world, energy is disrupted and sent…sent _billowing_ away from the dead zones. Energy can never be destroyed, only transferred. These waves are the transference of an _incredible_ amount of energy.”

            He walked past the blackboard, swiping his hand absently against it again and leaving long streaks through the dense writing.

            “It’s like steel being struck against flint,” he said. “Trying again and again for the one spark that will catch on tinder and set it afire.”

            He looked to Herc then, shaking his head again slightly.

            “Marshall, our _world_ is the tinder. And whatever is striking the flint is growing impatient.”

            Herc went cold, staring at Gottlieb.

            “Is there a way to stop the surges?”

            “Not from this side of the universe,” Gottlieb said softly. “There are no cracks for us to sneak through, sir. The spark hasn’t caught yet.”

            “But when it does?”

            Gottlieb’s head hung for a moment, his deep exhaustion catching up to him again. When he looked up, there was a shade of gallows humor in his expression.

            “I don’t suppose this facility has a war clock?”


	27. Chapter 27

27.

 

            “Newt’s acting a little strange.”

            Tendo looked up from his breakfast at Lightcap.

            “You realize you’re gonna have to be more specific than that, right?”

            Lightcap almost smiled, but she caught herself before it could show. Tendo knocked back the rest of his coffee in a half-scalding gulp, pushing away from the table in resignation.

            “Where is he?”

            “A tech found him in one of the labs early this morning. He’s working on something, but he ignores everyone who tries to talk to him. They…don’t want to get near him.”

            “Why? Did he yell at someone?”

            “Snarled, actually,” Lightcap said dryly. “He’s not good at containing his temper.”

            “God _dammit_ ,” Tendo muttered to himself, shaking his head. He glanced up at Lightcap. “Alright. You want me to try and bring him out of it again?”

            “Couldn’t hurt. He listens to you more than me anyway.”

            The walk to the lab was a quick one, but the door was stuck fast when Lightcap tried to open it. She pushed hard against it, and the chair Newt had fixed under the doorknob squeaked slightly against the floor.

            “Newt, it’s us. Open the door.”

            “Not now!”

            Tendo scowled at the door, pushing with all his strength against it. The chair wouldn’t give way, the door only opening a crack. From what he could see the lab seemed to be in decent order; nothing was on fire, at least.

            “Newt, open the door _right now_.”

            “No. You’re wrecking my concentration, just _leave._ ”

            “Oh for Chrissakes,” Tendo muttered. He gestured for Lightcap to stand back a bit, and without warning suddenly kicked the door, trying to force it open. The chair’s legs squealed loudly against the floor, and Tendo kicked again. There was a sharp crash, and the door swung open.

            “Really?” Newt snapped, turning around from the whiteboard he was writing at and scowling. “Are you serious? That was _entirely_ necessary?”  
            “You wanna explain why you thought pinning the door shut was?” Tendo retorted, picking up the chair as he and Lightcap went inside. Newt huffed loudly and turned away with an oddly serpentine motion, head swinging slowly back towards the whiteboard before the rest of his body turned. Lightcap studied him in puzzlement.

            “Newt, are you alright?”

            “I would _pay_ for people to stop asking me that every day.”

            “You’re…moving differently.”

            Newt paused in his writing, then shook his head and carried on as though Lightcap hadn’t spoken. She and Tendo stood behind him, studying the board. It was covered from top to bottom with notes and hastily drawn figures; Tendo took a closer look at one the bigger drawings. It was more detailed than the rest; thin and insect-like, its head elongated and elaborate as a crown.

            “What’s this?” he asked. Newt glanced at it, and Tendo was startled at the cold hatred in his expression.

            “A Precursor,” he muttered sharply, abandoning the board and going to a pair of tables he had pushed together. Papers and folders littered it in an untidy sprawl, and a holo-display computer was casting harsh fluorescent light across the lab. Lightcap sifted through some of the papers.

            “Where did you get these?” she asked. “You need the facility director’s approval to access the archives.”

            “Oh, you mean the room in the second sub-basement?” Newt said absently, sitting at the computer and opening several programs at once. A video with raw footage of the Breach started playing, and Newt expanded it until it took up the entire screen. “Yeah, the director left with the ferry we came on, did you know that? I asked around. Meetings on the mainland or something, that’s why we haven’t seen him. Or her. I forget their name. Doesn’t matter. No director, no permission. Went in on my own. Tendo?”

“What?”

“The folder on the floor. Can I have it, please?”

“Can you stop going a mile a minute and look at me first?”

Newt looked up in pure irritation, glaring at Tendo pointedly.

“Can I please have my folder?” he asked, holding his hand out. Tendo picked it up and flipped through it.

“Half of it’s been redacted,” he said, shuffling through the papers. “What is this?”

“A report about the Breach the first month after it opened,” Newt said. He got up and took the folder from Tendo, snatching away one of the pages he’d taken out. “I’m _working_. You guys gotta go, alright? I’m fine. I’m busy. Out, please.”

“You’re commandeering a lab with no clearance and you’ve stolen classified documents,” Lightcap said. Newt stared at her, then turned away and shrugged.

“Well when you say it like _that_ it sounds bad.”

He sat at his computer again and immediately seemed to forget about them, watching the Breach video. He expanded it again until the quality degraded into a mess of oversized pixels, leaning close to the screen and trying to puzzle something out from the image.

“Maybe we could help if you let us know what you’re doing,” Tendo said carefully. Newt ignored him, closing the video file and immediately opening a new one. Cyrillic lettering and a timestamp with a 2016 date were emblazoned in one corner, and a man speaking Russian was giving commentary as the camera swept over the Breach.

 “ _Newt_.”

Tendo’s hand came down on the keyboard, making Newt jump and draw back with a startled noise.

“What?” he asked. He tried to get to the keyboard again but Tendo wouldn’t budge, and Newt sat back in his chair with an annoyed sound. “ _What?_ Jesus, I’m trying to work…”

“You’re scaring me,” Tendo said in a low voice. Newt’s expression fell and he looked at Tendo uncertainly. “Can you please just take a minute and talk to us? We _worried_.”

Newt looked from him to Lightcap, chastised.

“I’m…ahh, I’m sorry,” he said, taking off his glasses and rubbing roughly at his eyes. “Long night. Really… _really_ long night. Talked to it. Them, I mean. Still kind of out of it. Feels like there’s a current running through my brain. Thoughts are buzzing, can’t…can’t slow ‘em down.”

He fell silent and stared at the video clip, seeming to forget Tendo was even there. Tendo shook his shoulder hesitantly and Newt sucked in a sharp breath, blinking as though he had been shocked awake.

“Hhn-! Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, pushing away from the table. He stood there briefly, then turned away and went back to the whiteboard, distracted by his own thoughts again. He picked a marker up off the floor and immediately started writing, trying to squeeze in a few words into what little open space was left.

“What did that thing do to you?” Tendo asked.

“It’s like trying to pour the ocean into a shotglass,” Newt said absently. “That’s half of why it hurts so much. A single impression is the size of a lifetime. They don’t forget anything. It’s transference, this…it’s so _much_. It’d kill someone if they tried to hold it all by themselves.”

He was starting to talk too quickly, words stumbling over each other. Tendo looked over his shoulder at Lightcap and she held her hands up, just as confused and worried as he was. Afraid he would spook Newt if he moved too quickly, Tendo very carefully put a hand on his shoulder again. Newt was staring at the whiteboard, eyes flicking over his barely-readable notes and messy drawings.

“I told it to show me,” he said, voice quiet. “I asked it to be careful. It _was_ careful. It didn’t hurt me, but it…it’s like a million voices all talking to you at once. We’re not wired for that. Even I’m not, even with the bond. Bond makes it safer, lets me see clearer. But it’s…it’s _not_ clear. I’m part of them and I’m not. I’m human.”

He laughed suddenly and there was sharp relief in it.

“I’m human,” he said, looking at Tendo. He smiled slightly and laughed again. “Doesn’t matter how wrong I feel when it gets bad. I’m not like they are. I’m okay. I’m…I’m _okay._ Couldn’t tell before. Everything’s been…been so mixed up in here for so long, I couldn’t tell on my own.”

He drummed his fingers against the side of his head, eyes closing.

“I’m okay, I swear,” he said. “Just…everything’s still trying to settle again. I’m fine. I’m _fine,_ I promise.”

He suddenly leaned heavily against Tendo, unable to muster the strength to stand on his own anymore. Tendo gestured quickly to Lightcap to bring the chair over and he eased Newt down into it.

“Just take a minute and breathe, alright?” Tendo said. “I _know_ you’re okay, don’t worry.”

Newt leaned forward, passing his hands wearily over his face, visibly trying to calm himself down. Tendo looked over him at Lightcap again, nodding silently towards the whiteboard. The writing was a stream-of-thought jumble; ideas spliced together nonsensically from one end of it to the other.

“What is all this?” she asked.

“What they told me,” Newt said. “This was what the project was about, wasn’t it? Learn whatever I could, then give the data to you to translate.”

“I’d need a month just to translate your _handwriting_ …”

Newt took a moment to gather himself and then stood, pointing to a dense block of words running into each other in a far corner. Lightcap squinted at it and Tendo tilted his head far to one side, trying to work out if they were actually words at all.

“I asked them to tell me about the Precursors,” Newt said, tapping the whiteboard. “They’re the ones that started all this. The first few kaiju they deployed here, they weren’t just carrying out a seek-and-destroy directive. The Precursors wanted to study us and find out how to kill us most effectively.”

He turned away from the board and went back to his computer, opening an old news clip of Hundun’s attack on Manila.

“Trespasser’s body salted the earth when it decayed,” he said, a manically energetic edge in his voice. “Oblivion Bay’s on top of completely dead soil. _Nothing_ can reverse that damage. And you remember the cleanup in Manila?”

“Yeah, Hundun shit everywhere and ruined the topsoil.”

“Not the most eloquent way to put it,” Lightcap said dryly. Tendo shrugged.

“I’m sorry, it _excreted poison_ everywhere.”

“It was an adaptation,” Newt said impatiently, trying to get their attention again. “A really, really effective adaptation. The toxins kill off any plant life it touches and ruins the groundwater for human consumption. The phosphorus content seeps into the soil and enriches it again, but the chemical balance is incorrect for _our_ plants. The Precursors tweaked the design so it wouldn’t ruin the soil like Trespasser did.”

“But the Kaiju Blue…”

“Kaiju are walking chemical weapons tailored to Earth biology,” Newt said, sitting on the edge of the table. “If the rampaging doesn’t do the job, the onset of rapid decay and release of liquefied remains pick up where it left off. Every time a kaiju died before the Jaeger program, they ruined entire swathes of cities. Reckoner turned half of Hong Kong into a wasteland.”

“So the first waves of kaiju were…what?” Lightcap asked. “Elements added to specific control groups?”

“Yes,” Newt said, opening another video file. Karloff’s battle with Brawler Yukon started to play, and Newt watched Lightcap closely. “They were pointed in the direction of populated areas so the Precursors could see how we would react. They got used to the nuke strikes, kaiju were getting harder and harder to kill that way with each attack. So when you and Lieutenant D’onofrio showed up in a giant fuckin’ _robot_ , it…kind of caught them off guard.”

Karloff gave a shrill roar in the video, throwing itself against Brawler’s hull again and again. Lightcap watched with narrowed eyes as the Jaeger’s arm drew back and suddenly smashed its fist into Karloff’s face; the wet, sharp _crunch_ of the kaiju’s breaking bones made Newt flinch, and he turned the volume off.

“The Jaeger program was the catalyst for the next wave of adaptations,” Newt said after a moment, watching the video as it replayed itself. “After Karloff, the kaiju started gaining stronger armor and musculature, stronger _everything_. The Precursors started turning them into tanks that could take more punishment. The primary directive was always pest control, but they were experimenting on us at the same time.”

Lightcap paled, staring at Newt.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the difference between the first models and the later ones,” Newt said. “Trespasser was a walking nightmare, but compared to later kaiju it was a pushover. Look at Hardship. It was covered in armor that Romeo Blue had to crush to splinters before it could even start damaging the kaiju underneath it. The Precursors wanted to see what our technology could do. When the Jaeger program peaked…that’s when they started _winning_. We don’t have the resourcefulness they do and they knew it. Our monsters were dying like flies and theirs kept getting stronger, because _we_ stopped adapting.”

Tendo looked at the Precursor sketch on the whiteboard again, studying it. The jagged, unnatural angles and disturbing blank face made him feel slightly sick, even if it was only a drawing.

            “So when they come back…”

            “They know what we did to close the Breach. That trick isn’t going to work again.”

            “We don’t know that the Breach will be reopened,” Lightcap said. The words were meaningless; like something a parent would say to a child needing reassurance.

            “A hundred doors opening, and they will come,” Newt murmured absently. Lightcap stared at him.

            “What?”

            “When Scunner was…when it was using me,” Newt said uncomfortably, gesturing at himself. “Hermann visited it and it told him that the war hadn’t even started yet. It said a hundred doors were going to open up and the Precursors were going to start the real war. That they were going to raze us to the ground.”

            “You believe that?”

            “Haven’t thought of a reason why I shouldn’t. It seemed pretty confident about it.”

            He looked up at the ceiling, studying the overhead lights. They were steady, though several bulbs had burned out and still needed replacing. One of them had recently burst, the filament hanging forlornly from the shattered glass tubing. Tendo looked at the lights with a sense of growing unease.

            “The surges…there wasn’t anything like this when the first Breach opened,” he said uncertainly. “The world just kind of split open. No warning, no anything. It was just _there._ ”

            “They were being stealthy the first time,” Newt said, sliding off the edge of the table and going back to the whiteboard. He swept his hand against one corner to clear space, taking up a marker and drawing the jagged, broad slash of the Breach. “But now that we kicked the hornet’s nest, all they’re going to want to do is retaliate as hard and as fast as they can.”

            “They’re locked into their own universe,” Lightcap said.

            “Locks break. And time isn’t on our side. It never was.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Our time isn’t the same as theirs,” Newt said, the manic edge growing stronger in his voice again. He drew a second zig-zagging line, and then another. “It’s been two and a half months on our side since the Breach closed. But it’s…it’s not the _same_ , not in the Anteverse. Two currents going different speeds and different directions. They came here in the _Triassic_ period first, before they realized the planet wasn’t ready. They didn’t change. All that time waiting and planning, and they didn’t change. What’s a few million years to things like them?”

            He turned to Lightcap and Tendo, gesturing helplessly.

            “They’re done being patient,” he said. “They wanted this planet and one door slammed in their faces isn’t going to change that. Millions of years didn’t stop them. Maybe it wasn’t even millions to them. Maybe it wasn’t even a dozen. Our months could be their _hours._ ”

            “Raleigh destroyed the kaiju production facility when he detonated Gipsy Danger, we saw it,” Tendo said, looking slightly sick. “It was a chain reaction. It took out everything.”

            “They were _legion_ ,” Newt said mercilessly. “As far as you could see in every direction, there were kaiju and there were Precursors. One Jaeger wasn’t going to wipe them out. We didn’t send Gipsy through the Breach to destroy them, we sent her to bar the door. They hated us before. What do you think they feel about us _now?”_

 

            --

 

            _“Marshall?_ ”

            Herc looked up from the his latest pile of paperwork to the vidcall screen, pausing mid-stroke as he signed off on something he had only skimmed over but assumed was important. Gottlieb was anxious to the edge of hysteria on the other end of the line.

            “What is it? You okay?” Herc asked, a sense of deep unease quickly rising in him.

            “ _No,”_ Gottlieb said, looking over his shoulder at something in the background. Herc could hear the muffled sounds of a television feed. _“Marshall, something’s happened. I was tracking reports for another surge, something’s happened, they can’t trace it now but the shockwave, sir, it’s coming and it may cripple systems beyond repair this time, tell Miss Mori to protect Chrome and disengage it from any connections to power sources and-”_

“Hermann, slow down. What’s happened? What are you talking about?”

            Gottlieb gaped at Herc in genuine shock, and Herc’s unease sharpened.

            “ _Marshall, for God’s sake, turn on your radio, your television, something! It appeared briefly but they saw it, Marshall, the spark is **catching!”**_

Herc went cold and immediately pushed away from his desk, fumbling at the projecter bolted to the far wall. The holographic display blazed to life at once and Herc twisted the dial, trying to find a news station. He didn’t have to look very long.

            “- _while there are no reported injuries, the incident has left Madrid citizens frightened and demanding answers. Ongoing blackouts have blanketed entire quarters of the city and have repair crews scrambling to restore power. Many residents are enacting a self-imposed evacuation in panic over the phenomenon, and all roads exiting the city have already built up impassable traffic jams stretching for miles.”_

            The news anchor was reporting the scenes blandly, but the grainy video clip that kept looping on the screen was what held Herc’s attention. It looked like it had been taken with a cellphone; the sound was poor, reducing the thin, high-pitched buzzing into a squealing burst of static, the picture grainy and shaky.

Someone had been filming the latest blackout, watching it roll from building to building as though snuffing them out. There was a strange sound as though air was being sucked through a vacuum, and in the street cars and people were suddenly being pulled backwards. There were panicked screams and the phone swung around to catch a bright flash of light. It vanished almost instantly and the pulling force faded; people being dragged almost horizontally suddenly fell to the ground, and cars smashed against each other immediately started to accelerate away.

Herc rewound the television feed and paused it. The light was blinding, a vivid, fiery streak seeming to split the world open above the street. Herc stared at it until his eyes watered, taking in the horrifying sight of it.

“ _Marshall,_ ” Gottlieb was saying frantically in the background. “ _That was a Breach.”_


	28. Chapter 28

28.

 

           

            “Half the city’s on fire.”

            “That had _better_ be an exaggeration.”

            “Only a little, sir,” the LOCCENT tech said, turning in his chair to look at Herc worriedly. “We’re tracking radio chatter. There was an electrical fire in an entire strip of buildings downtown, they all sparked at the same time after the surge. The whole block’s a total loss.”

            “Not our problem to handle,” Herc said heavily. “Keep tabs on police activity anyway, though.”

            LOCCENT was a chaotic mess, and Herc dearly missed Tendo’s commanding presence at the helm of it. The holo-computer monitors up front displayed maps of the world as though looking at theaters of war, marking spots that had had surges within the last twelve hours. Gottlieb been right; they had no pattern or set location. The ones they were able to track were scattered across the planet at random, inland and coastal alike.

            It had been almost two hours since the Breach incident in Madrid and there had already been two other surges. They were gaining momentum and strength with terrifying speed. Herc looked down at the Jaeger floor from the LOCCENT window, staring at Chrome Brutus. The Madrid shockwave had, as Gottlieb predicted, fried half of the Shatterdome’s computer systems; it had been pure luck Herc had been able to tell Mako to cut any connection power to the Jaeger before the surge hit.

            “Hermann, any signs of another wave?”

            “ _Nothing yet, sir_ ,” Gottlieb said. He was entrenched in his lab running several computers and radios at once. LOCCENT was simply too crowded for him to work in; Herc didn’t like the idea of having to communicate solely through computers that could catch fire at a moment’s notice, but there was no way around it.

            “No news is good news, I suppose. Keep looking, I want at least ten minutes forewarning before we have to cut power again.”

            _“Yes, sir.”_

            The second and third surges had been in Canada and Germany, respectively. The Canadian surge had been far too close for comfort; the wave had swept across the Shatterdome almost too quickly for them to protect themselves. Bad enough it had crippled several towns in Alberta when it hit.

            “Sir, I’ve got the UN on the line. Again.”

            Herc rolled his eyes heavenward and made a frustrated sound.

            “Are they offering help or are they asking stupid questions?”

            “Didn’t ask, sir. But they’re getting pretty irritated that you’re not picking up.”

            “Fuck’s sake,” Herc muttered under his breath. More loudly he said, “Fine, patch ‘em through.”

            An open monitor immediately clicked into vidcall mode, and the American UN representative popped up in a small screen. Herc scowled reflexively; he couldn’t stand half the politicians he had to bandy with, but this mealy-mouthed bastard was one of the worst.

            “All due respect sir, but you’ve got ten seconds to make this relevant before I hang up,” Herc said. “We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

            “ _I’m well aware,”_ the rep said sourly. Herc squinted at him, trying to recall his name. Something-Taylor. Mark? Andrew? “ _We’ve got reports flooding in from three different countries that there are…”_

There was a pause as Taylor shuffled papers on his desk, taking out a pair of reading glasses as he picked one up.

            “ _Well, the most popular term for the incidents seems to be ‘Breach’,_ ” he said flatly, looking up at Herc over his glasses. “ _Tell me you’ve got a plan of action, Marshall. We’ve given you a lot of leeway in how you handle things and it’s time to prove it was worth all the trouble. We’re hoping for some tangible result we can report to concerned parties.”_

“You want a tangible result?” Herc asked. He turned away briefly from the monitor, signaling to a LOCCENT tech. “Connect me down to the bay floor, I need to talk to Mako.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Mako’s vidcall screen opened at once. She looked harried and there were people swarming around behind her; mechanics and engineers performing as much last-minute maintenance as they could.  

            “ _Yes, Marshall?”_

            “How’s Chrome holding up?”

            _“Systems are green and the core’s holding steady. Everyone’s just glad she isn’t digital format at this point.”_

Herc smiled wryly.

            “Patch Mister Taylor into your monitor. Let him see her.”

            Mako’s screen immediately switched to a new picture. Chrome Brutus loomed in the background, a waterfall of sparks trailing down her left arm from a team of welders reinforcing a bit of plating.

            “Where’s Raleigh?”

            “ _In the Conn-Pod. He’s helping with some wiring issues.”_

“Tell him to test out the horn, would you?”

            Taylor looked at Herc in puzzlement, and then fairly jumped out of his chair when the Jaeger’s bellowing roar suddenly rang through the bay floor. No one in the bay or in LOCCENT even flinched.

            “ _There’s_ your tangible result, sir,” Herc said, privately enjoying the rattled look on Taylor’s face. “She was scrap a month ago. We had her out in the field for maneuvers yesterday.”

            “ _So there’s only one that’s been finished?”_

            “Crimson Typhoon’s the only other Jaeger I know of that’s more than a pile of junk at the moment,” Herc said. “But she’s in no shape to even leave the bay floor, much less go into combat. Chrome can hold her own in the meantime.”

            “ _If that’s all you have at the moment, I suppose it’ll do well enough,_ ” Taylor said. Herc gave a poisonously sweet smile.

            “Your approval means the world to me, sir. Will that be all?”

            Taylor started to reply when a sudden burst of music came from a far end of LOCCENT. _“Rosanna’s Going Wild”_ blared loudly before the tech could fumble for the mute button, her face flaming as conversation stuttered and people started staring at her.

            “What the hell was that?” Herc asked, looking at her in bafflement. She shrugged, gesturing helplessly at her monitor.

            “It’s a radio station, sir. The DJ’s got a better handle on the news than most other media outlets. Sorry, sir.”

            “Just…keep it down,” Herc said, turning back to Taylor and forcing his face to blank calm, trying not to laugh. The man was staring at him coolly, almost radiating disapproval.

            _“I see you have your hands full, Marshall. I’ll leave you to it.”_

            The call cut off and Herc let the unexpected laugh finally escape. He went to the embarrassed tech, grinning at her.

            “You just stopped what could’ve been a twenty minute bureaucratic slog,” he said. “I should thank you on bended knee.”

            The tech smiled a little, turning to her monitor again quickly.

            “What station is this, anyway?”

            “Radio Free Jaeger. They’re good for news. The DJ’s a little…off, though.”

            She adjusted the volume just in time to catch the song’s end, and a sharp rattling of papers as the DJ leaned in close to the mic.

            _“So I’ve got callers coming in from all corners of the world, sayin’ there’s nasty happenings in every direction- thank you all for your updates, hard as they are to hear. But take note, listeners – I better not get one more goddamn BuenaKai nutbag tying up the lines saying it’s the second coming of Kaiju Jesus. Just an opinion, but the First Church of Godzilla can toss its collective ass into the ocean if they’re that eager to see their scaly overlords again.”_

 _“_ Oh, I _like_ him,” Herc said. The tech bit her lip to keep from laughing.

            “ _So like I said before the music break, listeners, if you’ve got family out on the coastlines now’s the time to contact ‘em and check in. These outages are getting nastier by the minute. Alberta’s reporting almost total grid failure in half the province. Stuttgart didn’t get away clean either- we got a hundred-plus car pile-up in the middle of the city where that flashbang crack started vacuumin’ everything towards it.”_

“He’s not kidding,” the tech said. “Every report confirms the cracks exert a pull like gravity. It’s a miracle no one got killed.”

            “ _Hold out and don’t panic,_ ” the DJ was saying. _“Cardinal rules of copin’ with alien invasion still apply, listeners –don’t get in the military’s way, cooperate with instructions when they’re given, and for God’s sake, don’t turn on one another when things get sketchy. We went through ten years of hell already. Let’s not make it worse before it gets better.”_

The mic clicked off, and somewhat ironically “ _Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall_ ” began to croon from the radio feed. The tech turned the music down and looked up at Herc.

            “Should I monitor something else, sir?”

            “No. No…this is fine. Carry on.”

            “Marshall?”

            Herc turned away at once, plunging through the crowd of people to another tech at the far side of LOCCENT.

            “What is it?”  
            “Doctor Gottlieb found another surge, sir,” the tech said, pulling up a world map, magnifying South America.

            “Where?”

            “Chile, sir. Half of Talcahuano’s already out,” he said, pointing to the city. The highlighted area on the map blinked bright red, the spot growing larger and larger on the readout.

            “What’s the estimate before the wave hits us?”

            “Doctor Gottlieb said it’d be about fifteen minutes. They’re getting faster.”

            “Shut everything down and switch communication to radios. I want us in blackout before it comes through.”

             Lights and computers turned off at once. The sharp clicks of circuit breakers switching off echoed loudly through LOCCENT, and Herc watched through the window as the bay floor went dark. The only light came from flashlights and a few battery-powered floodlights as crowds of workers huddled together to wait through the blackout. LOCCENT had a floodlight of its own stuffed tightly between two consoles, and it hummed loudly to life. Herc squinted as it half-blinded him, grabbing for his radio.

            “Doctor Gottlieb, everything off on your end?”

            “ _Yes. Based on the shockwave’s speed it should pass over us in a few moments. Marshall, have you had any communication outside?”_

“Just had to deal with Taylor again, but he didn’t have anything relevant to talk about. Why?”  
            _“We may have trouble deploying Chrome Brutus if flight is required, sir. Apparently planes are beginning to drop out of the sky.”_

Herc’s heart dropped as he remembered the violent turbulence he’d suffered through on the flight to London, and again on the trip to Los Angeles. The plane had rattled and shaken so badly he had thought something was trying to knock it right out of the air.

            “Where?”

            “ _South American airspace was affected most heavily. The shockwave’s weakened the further it spreads, but there’s still…they’re dropping like flies, sir. If Chrome has to be deployed, she may have to walk.”_

“Yeah, if the Breach even opens close enough for us to get to,” Herc muttered. “Why are they speeding up like this? We went through eleven surges yesterday and they weren’t this strong.”

            There was a crackling of static over the radio and half of Gottlieb’s words phased out entirely. Herc smacked the back of the radio and gave it a hard shake, and the static faded.

            “- _is feeding itself, like a machine producing kinetic energy,”_ Gottlieb was saying. “ _I believe the surges have harvested enough transferred energy to properly power whatever is trying to open the Breach again. The power has reached a point where it is self-sustaining, taking back as much energy as it expends when it activates.”_

“So…so what, then? It’s perpetual motion?”

            “ _In a way, yes. And the more violent the incidents become, the more energy it produces for itself.”_

Herc cursed softly under his breath. The radio signal phased into a harsh rush of static, and suddenly gave an earsplitting squeal. Herc winced and turned the volume down quickly. Around him LOCCENT had gone deadly quiet, techs waiting at their consoles or standing aimlessly in the crowded room as they waited. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but Herc could have sworn he felt a faint wave of static electricity pass over him, making the hair stand up on his arms. The last wave had taken almost two minutes to pass over them; Herc slowly counted through five minutes just to be safe, then turned up the volume on his radio again.

            “What do you think? Can we power up again?”

            “ _I think we’re safe, sir. Go ahead.”_

            The words were snowed with static and Herc gave his radio another shake. That was all they needed; bad enough they had to keep turning the computer systems off. Radios dying off would probably cripple them. Breakers began clicking back on and Herc had to shield his eyes as the overheads came back to life in a blaze of harsh florescent light.

            “Mako, is Chrome alright?”

            “ _Everything’s still green on our end.”_

“Good. You,” Herc said, pointing to a tech. He sat straighter in his chair at once, looking slightly startled at being singled out. “Keep an eye on things up here, I’m stepping out for a moment. Radio me if something happens.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            A mousy woman in a low-slung cap was standing just outside the LOCCENT doorway, and Herc accidently bumped into her as he left the room. He turned to apologize but she was already hurrying down the corridor with her head ducked down, shoulders hunching. Herc watched her go in bafflement; he wasn't  _that_ intimidating, was he?

            “Miss?”

            The woman stopped dead, but she didn’t turn around.

            “Yes, sir?”

            “Was there something you needed? I didn’t mean to startle you, I didn’t see you.”

            The woman half-turned, hugging a clipboard and folders to her chest and keeping her face averted.

            “Nothing, sir,” she said. Her voice was odd; Herc couldn’t quite place her accent but it sounded vaguely Chinese. It seemed as though she was trying to hide it and the result flattened her voice entirely.

            “Is everything alright?” he asked taking a step towards her. Her body language was repressed panic now, and she turned away again.

            “It’s nothing, sir!”

            She began to walk away, and Herc was about to call after her when his radio gave a sudden click, distracting him. By the time he looked up again the woman was gone. Puzzled, Herc grabbed at his radio as it clicked again.

            “Yeah?”

            “ _Sir, there’s already been another surge!”_

“What the hell do you mean? Where was it now?”

            “ _Chicago, sir. It…Marshall, it’s opened **inside** a building, it’s…”_

“Tell me the building’s still there, Hermann. Please.”

            Gottlieb said nothing, and a cold, sick shiver went through Herc.

            “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Nothing we can do about it. I… _fuck.”_

Herc paced a few steps and turned in a tight circle, fighting against a sudden stab of panic. Inland cities were mostly ghost towns these days, maybe there hadn’t been a substantial loss of life…the panic turned into physical nausea, and Herc had to lean against the wall briefly and collect himself. He couldn’t let himself go like this, not now. People were going to look to him for instructions. They were going to expect him to know what to do.

            “Fuck,” he said again, his voice a bitter whisper. How had Pentecost done this for so long without cracking? _God_ , Herc wished he were here. He closed his eyes briefly and took in a long, deep breath.

            Pentecost wasn’t coming back. He was gone, and no one was going to come and help. Herc opened his eyes as the warning announcement began to play again, and he watched the lights switch off one by one, leaving him in total darkness. No one was going to come help him.

            “Hermann,” Herc said, clicking the radio on again.

            “ _Yes, sir?”_

“When are these Breaches going to stabilize?”

            _“At the pace they’re coming, sir…a permanent one may be open within a day. Perhaps within hours.”_

“Hours,” Herc echoed flatly. He suddenly shook himself and pushed away from the wall, forcing himself to stand straighter when all he wanted to do was crumple to the ground. “Alright. Fine. Hours. If it’s open will the turbulence stop? We can scramble aerial forces to patrol in case anything crawls out before Chrome can get there.”

            “ _I…it’s likely, sir,”_ Gottlieb said, startled at the sudden hard edge in Herc’s voice. “ _If you haven’t alienated Representative Taylor, I’m sure he’d open channels of communication for you…”_

            The lights began to click on again and Herc gave a tired laugh.

            “Better get on the horn before the power goes again, then,” he said. “By the end of this we’re probably going to be sending messages through smoke signals.”

            _“A bit of a challenge to do, seeing as half of Los Angeles seems to be going up in flames.”_

“Only a block or two. I’m sure nothing’ll get lost in translation. Keep me posted on the next surge. And, Hermann?”

            “ _Yes, sir?”_

Herc watched an overhead down the hall struggle and flicker, the bulb damaged from the surge.

            “If you can…try and raise Pitcairn, would you?”

            “ _Pit…why, sir? They deflect every call we send. Priority communications only.”_

“I’d say this is a priority kind of situation. Make something up if you have to, if that’s what gets you through. They’ve had Newt locked up over there long enough, we need him back in play on the board.”

            “ _Yes, sir.”_

            The radio clicked off at once. Herc turned back towards LOCCENT, listening to the chatter of radios, video feeds and conversation clouding into a mass of white noise. The cold panic was still in him, ready to rear its head at the slightest provocation. Herc shook himself again, squaring his shoulders and forcing himself to calm. No one was going to come and help him; if anything was going to get done he was going to have to do it himself, and that was all there was to it.

            Allowing himself one last useless wish for Pentecost to sweep into LOCCENT and take the reins, Herc went back inside.


	29. Chapter 29

29.

 

 

            “How long has he been out?”

            Lightcap looked over at the table. Newt was sound asleep with his head pillowed on his arms, occasionally twitching as he dreamed. His glasses were askew and in danger of falling off, and Lightcap removed them carefully, trying not to disturb him.

            “He was awake a minute ago,” she said. “Must have just put his head down to rest for a second.”

            Newt gave an odd, clicking growl as he shifted, burying his head under one arm. Lightcap sighed and put his glasses down beside him, taking one of the folders he had been working with and rifling through it.

            “What’s that one?” Tendo asked. Lightcap passed it to him. “Ah. ‘Examination of Kaiju Effluence Toxicity and Containment Methodology’. No wonder he fell asleep.”

            “Careful, he helped _write_ that. He’d be insulted if you thought it was boring.”

            “Wait, did he?” Tendo flipped through the thick stack of papers, looking for the cited authors. Newt’s name was near the top of a lengthy list. “Huh, look at that. Title still leaves somethin’ to be desired.”

            He handed the folder back and watched Newt sleep, frowning slightly. He looked exhausted, his face pale and dark circles under his eyes.

            “Was he okay before he conked out?”

            “He seemed alright,” she said. Tendo handed her one of the coffees he had stepped out to get, and she took it gratefully. She took a sip and gagged, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh! Oh my _God_ , how much sugar is in this?”

            “Oop, sorry, that one’s mine. Try this one.”

            Lightcap took the second mug and sipped it carefully, swishing the coffee around in her mouth to wash out the taste. Tendo deliberately took a long swig of the first one, enjoying the half-serious look of disgust on Lightcap’s face.

            “You’re going to be diabetic by the time you’re forty.”

            “Probably.”

            Tendo put the third mug on the table out of Newt’s reach in case he started to flail in his sleep and wandered aimlessly back over to the whiteboard. He tried not to look at the Precursor sketch, instead squinting at a run-on sentence Newt had written in a spiral. The words twisted tightly in on themselves.

            “Any of this make sense to you?”

            “Not really,” Lightcap admitted. She pointed to a spiderweb of notes in one corner of the board, frantically scribbled lines radiating from the word ‘ _hive’._ “He’s translated it a little, but it’s still hard to follow. Look at this.”

            She pointed to one of the lower lines of the web. Tendo squinted again, trying to pick out individual words from Newt’s messy scrawl.

            “ _Planarian worms,_ ” he read. He looked at Lightcap blankly. “What?”

            “It’s a kind of flatworm,” she said. “There was this series of experiments in the fifties testing how they can regenerate lost parts, that sort of thing.”

            “They find out anything interesting?”

            “Yeah. If you cut a planarian in half, it regenerates into two separate organisms,” Lightcap said. “With two sets of identical memories. If the parent worm was trained to react to something like an electrical shock, the new worm remembers and reacts the same way.”

            “Ah. Well, that’s…creepy.”

            “A little bit.”

            “Don’t see where kaiju factor in, though.”

            “Meathead’s sample is the piece that was cut away from the parent. The aspects got cut off from the whole, but they still exist in both,” Newt said behind them. He stretched and yawned like a cat, back arching. “Coffee?”

            “By the computer. Don’t hurt yourself, it’s hot.”

            Newt hissed absently, grabbing for the mug and knocking half of it back.

            “Hey, c’mon. Don’t hiss at me.”

            “Mmn. Sorry.”

            “Yenno, what’s Hermann gonna think when you go back to the Shatterdome hissing and growling all the time?”

            Newt gave Tendo an unreadable look and then shrugged.

            “Let’s see if he hasn’t been lobotomized first. Then I’ll worry about what he thinks of me.”

            “Lobotomized?”

            “No communication in or out, and the kaiju bond smothers everything else,” Newt said absently. “I can’t tell if he’s okay or not. The last I saw he wasn’t doing that great.”

“Shit, Newt. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“No…no, it’s okay,” Newt said. “He’s…I’m sure he’s alright. I just can’t _tell_.”

He smiled ruefully, scratching at the back of his head.

 “And he wouldn’t think I’m acting any different than normal, he thinks I’m uncivilized anyway.” He laughed slightly. “Not sure how I’m gonna explain having to bring the giant brain back with me. That’ll be good for a shouting match. ”

            “Bring…Newt, the sample doesn’t belong to you,” Lightcap said. “You can’t just take it.”

            “You wanna tell the hivemind that or should I?” Newt asked, glancing up at her. “I’m bonded to it. It’ll be able to tell if I’m leaving it behind. It’s not going to let me leave it.”

            He shivered slightly, running a hand over the back of his head again. Tendo scowled.

            “I thought you said it liked you.”

            “It _does_ ,” Newt said defensively. “But if I tried to leave it’d be like twisting a limb off. It’d hurt _both_ of us.”

            “So you’re bringing it home with you? Where are you gonna put it, the living room?”

            “Maybe.”

            Tendo sighed incredulously and Newt looked away, finishing his coffee in a noisy slurp.

            “Let’s just…discuss that later, okay?” Lightcap said. “What were you talking about earlier?”

            “Fiery, inevitable end of the world.”

            “No, after that. The hivemind stuff.”

            “Ah, right.” Newt stood up and stretched again, jaw working as he yawned. “There’s two versions of the hivemind, the main organism and the one that’s locked up in Meathead’s sample. I burned through the sample I got from Mutavore the first time I Drifted, but every aspect up to that point in the production line was in there.”

            He was silent for a moment, staring hard at the floor.

            “Scunner had all of them. Even Slattern was in there.”

            “So why was it bitching about being alone?” Tendo asked. “There’s been dozens of kaiju. It had itself to keep it company.”

            “Because there’s no individuals in the hive,” Newt said. “It’s…ahh. Okay. Think about beads of mercury, right? Each one’s unique by itself. But put two together, it absorbs into a new whole. Each bead gets eaten up by the bigger one until it’s one giant mass.”

            “Right,” Lightcap said. “So…each aspect remembers itself as an individual…”

            “But it’s all in one mind,” Newt said. He held his hands up and shrugged. “They’re all the same one. They keep latching onto me because I’m individual from them. Permanently separate company.”

“Alright, I’m confused. Are they worms or are they mercury?”

            “What? They…Tendo, it’s a metaphor.”

            “I’m aware of what a metaphor is,” Tendo said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re bouncin’ between ideas faster than I can follow. So is it the one with the…the being cut in half and being the same, or is it the mercury thing?”  
            “It can be both,” Newt said. He snapped his fingers at Tendo, grinning. “C’mon, c’mon, you gotta keep up with this!”

            “For all I know you’re just making this shit up as you go along,” Tendo said, swatting at him. “You and your goddamned doctorates and your MIT shit, Jesus have _mercy.”_

“Don’t get mad ‘cause you can’t understand the big words, Mister Choi,” Newt said haughtily. Tendo gave a spluttering laugh and elbowed him; Newt turned away from it easily, giving him a shove. “Ohh, you gonna start a fight about it?”

            “I just may have to. I can take you.”

            “Pfft. I’d like to see you try. Caitlin, you think he can take me?”

            “I think you’re both over-caffeinated children,” Lightcap said mildly, sipping at her own coffee and studying the whiteboard. “Don’t drag _me_ into this.”

            Newt had his hands jokingly half-raised, thumbing his nose at Tendo.

            “I could knock you into next week. This the best you’ve got, Bruce Lee?”

            “Bring it, Elvis. I’m not scared of you.”

            Tendo laughed again, trying to dodge behind Newt to get him in a headlock. Newt twisted away again just out of reach, bumping into a stack of folders and sending papers spilling all over the floor.

            “Don’t kill each other,” Lightcap sighed. “Please?”

            “Just putting Newt in his place, that’s all,” Tendo said. Newt snorted, ducking away from him again. “Jesus, will you hold still?”

            “Oh, _I’m_ sorry, should I tone it down a little?”

            “You’re not fighting, you’re just _dodging_.”

            Newt swiped at the air with hooked fingers, and Tendo had to duck before he could catch the blow across the face. He grinned as Tendo straightened, holding his hands up again and bringing his arms close to his chest.

            “You started this,” he said. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re scared of me!”

            “I don’t think _anyone_ has ever been scared of you, Newt.”

            Newt feinted to the left and twisted behind Tendo, throwing his arms around him to pin Tendo’s arms at his sides.

            “Aw, come on! You are not- Newt, get _off!_ ” Tendo yelped, laughing and trying to get loose. Lightcap was watching them both and trying very hard to keep from smiling, shaking her head.

            “You’re both disgraces.”

            “Tendo started it!”

            “Is this some kind of male bonding thing? Are you two having a moment?”

            Newt laughed so hard he started to choke, hiding his face against Tendo’s shoulder.  Without warning he suddenly bit at Tendo’s collar, yanking on it.

            “Jesus! Hey, _hey!_ What the _hell_ , Newt?”

            “It’s how kaiju show affection!”

             Tendo laughed again, leaning back against Newt and trying to catch his breath.

            “You crazy little _shit.”_

Newt finally let go, adjusting his glasses and ducking his head down, trying to keep from laughing. It didn’t work, and he covered his face with one hand and tried regain at least a shred of composure. Tendo adjusted his collar and elbowed Newt again.

            “Biting is for in _private,_ Newton,” he said, so fussily Newt had to sit down on the edge of the table, choking on his laughter again. Lightcap held her hands up and walked away from them.

            “You two obviously need some alone time. I’m going for more coffee.”

            “I want some too.”

            “Not on your _life_ , Newt.”

            Lightcap swept out of the lab and Newt finally started to rein himself under control, wiping at his eyes. Tendo sat down next to him.

            “I still think you’re just making this shit up.”

            “Maybe,” Newt said airily. He grinned a little. “You guys wouldn’t be able to tell the difference anyway.”

            “Your ego never ceases to astound me,” Tendo said. Newt shrugged.

            “It’s part of my charm. I don’t have much else going for me at the moment.”

            Newt fell quiet, looking at the whiteboard. His mood seemed to visibly plummet as he studied it, the exhaustion creeping back. Tendo fidgeted with his rosary, fingers absently trailing over the beads. Outside the lab there was a faint sound of raised voices that quickly faded.

            “What was that?”

            “Dunno.” Tendo slid off the table’s edge, sticking his head out into the corridor. It was empty, but the echoes of shouting came again. “That’s weird.”

            “Shouting’s rarely a good thing,” Newt said dryly. “C’mon, let’s go look.”

            The halls were empty. It felt as though they were chasing after ghosts, following the sound of increasingly panicked voices. The lights gave a sudden flicker but before the surge could take hold there were a series of sharp clicks, everything turning off at once.

            “What the hell was that?”

            “Circuit breakers,” Newt said. “Someone killed the power.”

            He grabbed Tendo’s wrist and pulled him along, his other hand sliding against the wall as they walked in total darkness.

            “Well this isn’t foreboding at all,” Tendo muttered. Newt laughed weakly.

            “I’m sure someone has a good explanation for it.”

             Voices were echoing louder and more consistently now. Newt turned blindly towards it, his hand sliding free of the wall and into empty space.

            “Okay, I think…I think this is a hallway. You okay?”

            “Fine. You’re kinda crushing my wrist, though.”

            Newt let go at once.

            “Sorry.”

            “No, it’s fine. You don’t really know your own strength anymore, huh?”

            “Guess not…”

            The echoes were louder at the end of the new corridor, though Newt couldn’t pick out any of the words. There was no way to judge how far they’d gone, the minutes crawling by as they walked step by careful step. It was a small eternity before the breakers clicked again. Newt stopped short and covered his eyes as the lights came on, hissing sharply through clenched teeth. Tendo walked right into him, cursing under his breath.

            “Jesus, I think I’m _blind_.”

            “Fuckin’ florescent lights, I swear…”

            The lights buzzed ominously, but the echoes drowned it out; there was shouting now. Newt rubbed at his eyes, squinting down the hallway.

            “C’mon, it’s coming from the mess.”

            Pitcairn didn’t have a large population, and it seemed that every person stationed there had managed to squeeze themselves into the room. They were tightly packed around tables sporting laptops and a blaring radio, and no matter how Newt tried to force his way in he couldn’t get more than three feet into the room. He bit back an annoyed sound and jumped a couple times, trying to see over the crowd.

            “Give up _that_ ghost right now,” Tendo said dryly. “You’re too goddamned short.”

            “Oh, like you’re any better.”

            “I don’t have to wear boots to gain an extra inch, buddy.”

            Newt gave him a dirty look, gesturing broadly at the shifting crowd.

            “Fine, _you_ go see what’s going on.”

            Tendo tried to push through, and when he had to fall back in defeat he refused to look at Newt.

            “Shut up.”

            “I didn’t say anything.”

            “I can _hear_ how smug you are, shut up.”

            The buzz of conversation faded as someone turned up the radio, and they both leaned forward to listen.

            “- _a state of emergency has been declared. All non-military air travel has been suspended indefinitely. Civilians are advised to follow standard evacuation protocol and to obey any and all orders given by monitoring police or military presence. This is a message from the Pan Pacific Defense Corps Emergency Broadcast System: a state of emergency has been declared. All-“_

The radio switched over to another station, despite a flurry of protest. There was static on most stations, and the protests fell flat as the dial clicked again and again, whoever was at the radio trying with growing desperation to find an active channel. The static spiked and gave a sudden sharp squeal, suddenly going dead. The breakers clicked in a loud wave immediately afterwards, and the lights shut off.

            Newt and Tendo traded a long look, falling back from the immovable crowd.

            “The Corp radio only issues announcements if there’s an event,” Newt said hoarsely, his mouth gone dry. “What…Tendo, what the _hell.”_

 _“_ I don’t know,” Tendo said anxiously. “Shit, I don’t know. There’s no public access anywhere, there’s no TVs or anything. Shit. _Shit,_ I don’t know.”

            He turned in a tight circle, looking down both ends of the corridor. There was nowhere to go; Pitcairn had nothing even remotely similar to LOCCENT, and he felt patently useless without it.

            “Where’d Lightcap go? She would’ve come right here, maybe she knows something else.”

            “I don’t think she’s in there,” Newt said, trying to see inside again. “Maybe-”

            Someone grabbed abruptly at Newt’s arm and he gave a startled growl before he could stop himself, wrenching away and baring his teeth. The man who had grabbed him immediately put his hands up and backed away a step.

            “Doctor Geiszler,” he said warily. “Sorry, sir. You have a phone call.”

           

\--

 

           

            “I have to take it in here?”

            “Director’s office is the only one with a direct line, sir. Everything else is tied up right now, there’s a situation on the mainland.”

            “You don’t say,” Newt said flatly. The man flushed slightly and opened the door for him, though he put a hand up as Tendo tried to follow. “Sorry sir, it’s for Doctor Geiszler only.”

            “Oh my God, are you kidding me? Move. Go away. Tendo, c’mon.”  

            Newt pulled Tendo in by the collar before he could even protest, closing the door firmly in the man’s face.

            “Who was that guy, anyway?”

            “Dunno, think his ID tag said ‘Greg’ or something,” Newt said, going to the large desk at the other side of the room and sitting down. The vidcall console was on standby, loading with frustrating slowness as Newt activated it again. “Must be nice having total control over what communication goes in and out of here. That’s not fascist behavior at all.”

            “Not everyone in power is a fascist, Newt,” Tendo said. “Didn’t you call Marshall Hansen that?”

            Newt cleared his throat awkwardly.

            “I was a little stressed. It just kind of slipped out.”

            Tendo snorted, looking out the window. The world looked calm and dull outside.

            “Come _on,_ why won’t this stupid thing load…”

            Newt smacked the side of the console hard, then gave the mouse a shake and pushed a few buttons on the keyboard.

            “You’re gonna make it screw up the call, quit it.”

            “It’s not doing anything, it’s just flashing the loading screen at me!”

            “Probably because you’re making it freeze up! Stop mashing the keys, you’re gonna break it.”

            Newt scowled at Tendo and deliberately started mashing the keys again. Tendo threw his hands up in disgust.

            “You’re impossible, I swear to God.”

            “ _I quite agree.”_

Newt’s hands skidded across the keyboard and he jolted backwards so hard the chair rolled away from the desk. He stared at the vidcall screen, blinking as though he’d been struck.

            “ _Are you even going to say hello to me?”_ Gottlieb asked wryly. Newt’s mouthed moved silently for a second and he shook his head hard, trying to gather himself again.

            “You’re okay,” he said. “I…I couldn’t. You were gone. I couldn’t…”

            Newt made an odd sound, as though the breath had been knocked out of him. Gottlieb looked exhausted and worn out, but he was _there,_ he was alive and talking, he was _alright._

            “I am _really_ glad to see you,” Newt said, his voice cracking. Gottlieb smiled ruefully.

            “ _Same here._ ”

            Newt laughed slightly, sitting back and running his hands over his face. His eyes were burning and his vision had gone blurry; he wiped at them roughly.

            “Ahh, hell,” he sighed. “I’m betting you’re gonna tell me why the Corps is running an emergency broadcast signal, right?”

            The smile faded and Gottlieb gave a curt nod. He turned away briefly from the console and Newt caught a look at the lab behind him; it looked like a whirlwind had thrown papers and equipment everywhere.

            “ _I’ll assume you’ve had a power surge within the last twenty minutes or so?”_

“Yeah. They’re spotty over here, they were getting weaker for some reason. Then all of a sudden the breakers keep switching off, I think-”

            “ _That someone’s been instructed to turn them off, yes. We’ve been doing the same, it prevents system damage. Or, it did, but one of the server rooms seems to have…well. Caught fire. Alongside half the city, actually.”_

“Half the…Jesus, Hermann, what the hell’s going on out there?” Newt asked. Gottlieb looked at him wearily.

            _“They’re opening the door again,”_ he said. Newt went cold, sinking back into the chair and his hands gripping painfully tight on the armrests, fingers digging into the leather. _“It’s starting.”_

            “What happened?” Newt asked. “What did you see?”

            “ _There was a Breach in Chicago. Opened up inside a building right in the middle of the city and destroyed it,”_ Gottlieb said. _“It closed after a moment, but…”_

            “But _what?_ ”

            Gottlieb’s voice dropped to an exhausted mutter, and Newt had to lean very close to the console to hear him.

            _“But right before it closed, something came **out**.”_


	30. Chapter 30

30.

 

 

            “So how’s _your_ month been going?”

            Tendo laughed sarcastically, scratching at his eye with his middle finger.

            “ _You’re a real funny guy, Becket-boy. Shouldn’t you be off welding something?”_

            Raleigh grinned, hopping off his stepladder and tossing his tools off to the side.

            “Nah, man. Finished welding stuff a couple days ago, I’m just in here to finish up some wiring. Check it out, she’s only…eh. Two years out of date now, I think?”

            _“Turn the camera around, lemme see the interface setup.”_

Raleigh obliged, picking the laptop up and pointing it towards the control panels. Lights and holographic readouts glowed on the consoles, a scale-model of Chrome’s exterior listing hull integrity and function levels. Tendo leaned closer to the screen on his side, whistling.

            “ _Holy shit, Raleigh. She looks like new. How’d you guys do it?”_

“Oh, no. This is _all_ Mako, not me. She’s been running ragged trying to get this thing finished.”

            “ _And when you say finished…”_

“I mean we can take her out and fight,” Raleigh said, setting the laptop down again. “It kinda looks like something chewed her up and spit her out a couple times over, but she’s battle-ready.”

            “ _Any chance there’s another sword or two squirreled away in there somewhere?”_

Raleigh grinned again.

            “Not this time around. But she packs a mean punch, I think we’ll be okay.”

            Tendo’s smile faded quickly and he sat back, looking at something off-screen. Raleigh couldn’t see what was going on in the background, but there were hints of other conversations and movement.

            “ _Still no new surges, huh?”_

Raleigh shook his head, looking troubled.

            “Not yet. It’s been almost two hours since Chicago and there’s nothing. We were starting to get them every twenty minutes.”

            “ _What’d Hermann say about it?”_

“Ah, Jesus. Bunch of predictive model stuff I could barely follow,” Raleigh said, sitting on the stepladder heavily. “The Chicago Breach generated a...I think ‘gigajoules’ were mentioned.”

            _“Giga-what now?”_

            “Told you I couldn’t really follow it,” Raleigh said mildly. Tendo laughed. “But…yeah. Lot of energy went in, lot of energy went out. And now Doctor Gottlieb thinks they’ve built up enough to power to keep trying.”

            “ _So what are they waiting for?”_

“I don’t know,” Raleigh said, looking towards the holo-panels again. Chrome’s diagnostic readout was the brightest, harsh green light shining like a beacon on the screen. “Maybe they’re scraping out what’s left of the kaiju before they try again.”

            Tendo scowled, looking off-screen again. If Raleigh strained he could hear Newt’s voice in the background, the words running together into a pitching mumble.

            “So, uh…how’s Newt doing?” he asked. Tendo gave him a sardonic look. “I’m serious. He okay?”

            “ _Kind of._ ”

            “Well _that’s_ reassuring.”

            “ _Dunno what else to tell you. Just wait ‘til you see the new roommate.”_

“What?”

            Tendo laughed tiredly.

            “ _Live kaiju brain, man. Thing’s seven feet long if it’s an inch, bunch of tentacles and shit everywhere. Kinda looks like a squid if you squint at it the right way.”_

“And Newt’s…what? Just gonna bring it back with him?”

            “ _No choice, apparently. He doesn’t want to risk pissing the hivemind off. Can’t wait to see how Hermann reacts.”_

Raleigh sighed, shaking his head.

            “He’s halfway ready to kill somebody. This might push him to it.”

            “ _What, really?”_

“He hasn’t had the best month either.”

            “ _Kind of a blanket statement at this point, isn’t it?”_

            “No kidding,” Raleigh said, standing. A new waiting call was pinging insistently on the laptop. “I gotta go, Tendo. Marshall’s calling.”

            _“Right. Good talkin’ to you, Becket-boy. Stay safe if they send you’n Mako out, okay?”_

“It might not come to that.”

            “ _Maybe not,_ ” Tendo said, not even trying to sound optimistic. “ _Bye, Raleigh._ ”

            The vidcall screen winked out only to be replaced at once with Herc’s. Raleigh instinctively stood a bit straighter, hand clasped behind his back.

            “Yes, sir?”

            “ _You almost finished in there? I want you and Mako off the floor and ready to suit up on-call.”_

“Just finished, sir. Any news?”

            _“No. Newt ID’d the parts that got sheared off, though. Category three.”_

“He can tell just by looking at the scraps?”

            “ _Apparently, yeah._ ”

            The Chicago Breach had been open for a grand total of a minute and a half. In that brief timespan a kaiju had begun to push through, the sharp bony tip of a snout and an arm reaching out before the Breach failed. The parts had been neatly sliced off the kaiju’s body, cauterized instantly. The building the Breach had opened in had been reduced to a ruin of metal and bricks; none of the news reports mentioned how many people had been inside, and Raleigh found he almost didn’t want to know.

            “How are we going to deploy if the Breach opens up on the other side of the world again, sir?” he asked. “The way they keep jumping around…”

            Herc actually smiled at that, looking a little pleased with himself.

            “ _Didn’t take much to convince our friend Mister Taylor to help out. Pledged ‘immediate military assistance_ ’ _to get where we need to go,_ ” he said. “ _Short of getting to the moon I don’t think we have to worry on that front.”_

“Nice change of pace,” Raleigh muttered. “You think we’re going to see action soon, sir?”

            “ _I want to say no, but there’s no use in lying to ourselves at this point.”_

Raleigh cast an absent look around the Conn-Pod, unsure what to say. The first few days after the original Breach had closed had been the best he could remember - no overhanging sense of fear or encroaching danger, no hopelessness.But then not even two weeks later Scunner had dragged itself out of the ocean, salt thrown in the still-healing wounds. Its death had been such a profound, genuine relief, the last dregs of the war washing away with the tide.

            He didn’t want to admit he was afraid. But it was there, right in the back of Raleigh’s mind; the same tiny seed of dread and doubt that had taken root when Yancy had been ripped away from him, the sense that no matter how hard they fought it was useless. He didn’t want to think that they were simply throwing themselves against a force that would withstand them until they broke upon it.

            “How far does this military assistance stretch, sir? Is it just here, or…”

            _“It’s just like the old days,_ ” Herc said, a hint of bitter humor in his voice. _“United front and all that. It’s a bit odd having world military leaders on speed-dial.”_

“And is anyone else helping track the surges?”

            “ _Hermann said he’d managed to recruit a little more help, but that’s the extent of it. He’s not too keen to let go of the reins. Control issues and all that.”_

“I think ‘micromanaging’ is the better word for it,” Raleigh said dryly. Herc snorted.

            “ _Either one works. But when he’s focused on a project like this his attention’s rock-solid. Don’t worry so much, Raleigh. We’ve got our bases covered as best we can.”_

\--

 

           

“ _Have you been eating properly? You look thin as a rail.”_

            Newt mumbled an annoyed answer around the pencil clamped between his teeth and tried to tune Gottlieb out as he worked. The lab he had commandeered earlier had turned into a makeshift LOCCENT, setting up stations for him and Tendo to work from. They had both been enlisted into Gottlieb’s monitoring project, using several computers at once to help search for surge activity. There had been no time for real conversation or any semblance of reunion at first, but now that the surge activity had lulled it was easy to get off-track.

            Initially overjoyed to see Gottlieb was still alive and kicking, all Newt could wish for now was a mute button.

            “ _Will you take that damn pencil out of your mouth? You keep chewing on it like that you’re going to wind up swallowing it.”_

            Newt glared irritably at Gottlieb and the look was coolly returned.

            “Trhnng trr _whrrk_ ,” he grumbled, biting down harder on the pencil out of pure spite. Gottlieb gave him a perfectly disgusted look.

            _“My God, have you honestly devolved into this much of a child? Tendo, take that thing away from him before he chokes.”_

            “You two seriously can’t go more than an hour without fighting, can you,” Tendo said, not bothering to look up from his computer. “Newt, spit it out.”

            “Nn!”

            “Don’t make me count to three.”

            With an aggravated growl Newt spit the pencil out onto the desk and glared at Gottlieb.

            “There! Happy? You’ve officially graduated to a new freaking level of nitpicking.”

            “ _Do I get a prize for irritating you from overseas?”_

            Newt turned away and resisted the urge to smile at the joke, refusing to look at the vidcall screen. Gottlieb was still smirking rather smugly when he finally glanced over again.

            “Shut up.”

            “ _I’m merely concerned for you, you know. I wish you wouldn’t take every question as a personal attack.”_

“My _mother_ isn’t as mothering as you are,” Newt said, giving Gottlieb a wry look. “And it’s all kinda pot calling the kettle black. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

            “ _A gross exaggeration. It’s only been three days, I’ll have you know.”_

“Oh, yeah, that _definitely_ makes me feel better.”

            “ _It could be worse,_ ” Gottlieb said. He gave Tendo a glance. “ _And I’m rather cross with you, you know.”_

“Wh…me? Why?” Tendo asked, startled. “I didn’t do anything.”

            _“I asked you specifically not to let him do anything foolish. Personal favor, remember?”_

            “Hey, man. I _tried._ It’s harder than it looks.”

            “You guys realize I’m still sitting right here,” Newt muttered. Gottlieb laughed dryly.

            “ _When you get to Los Angeles I’m just going to lock you in the lab. You need a lot of looking after.”_

Newt smiled a little sadly.

            “You really think there’ll still be something to go to after this?”

            Gottlieb was silent for a moment, giving Newt a long look.

            “ _You were always the optimistic one, Newton. Don’t go picking up my habits.”_

“What? Being realistic?”

            _“Yes. It doesn’t suit you.”_

Newt grinned with genuine amusement, shaking his head and looking back to his computer display.

            “Dare I think that was a note of affection in your voice?” he asked innocently. Gottlieb gave a derisive snort.

            “ _Hardly. Someone’s got to cajole you along, otherwise nothing would get done.”_

“Gets me right in the heart, Hermann, really. I’m _so_ glad to know you care.”

            The lab door swung open and Lightcap came in typing one-handed on a laptop, a tangle of power cords trailing from it and across the floor as she swept inside. She sat down at the table across from Newt and Tendo, eyes never leaving the screen as she typed.

            “Everything okay?” Tendo asked. Lightcap nodded mutely, more interested in her work than answering. “Did…did you steal that from somewhere?”

            “I might have,” she said absently, pulling the knotted cables out of the laptop and pushing them off to the side. “I needed a computer and everything’s either shorted out or being used.”

            “ _Who’s that?”_ Gottlieb asked.

            “Caitlin Lightcap. She got roped into the Drift project too, I forgot to tell you,” Newt said, picking up the pencil again and chewing on the eraser. He glanced over at the vidcall screen and jolted at Gottlieb’s stricken expression. “What? What’s wrong?”

            _“Caitlin….Caitlin Lightcap? The…she… **what?** ”_ Gottlieb said, astounded. “ _You just…you forgot to tell me you were working with one of the founders of the Jaeger program? How in the hell did you just FORGET?”_

“Don’t get upset with me, there wasn’t a good time to tell you!”

            “ _There were plenty of good times! For God’s sake, we were trapped in a Drift limbo for hours, why couldn’t you have just mentioned it then?”_

“Because you were sort of _dying_ at the time, Jesus Christ!”

            “ _That is hardly an excuse!”_

            Lightcap had looked up from her screen for a moment just for the sake of watching the argument, a faint amused smile quirking her lips. Tendo was simply tuning everyone out and staring at his computer, flicking through screen after screen.

            “Should I introduce myself?” Lightcap asked. Newt looked up and grinned at her, waving her over.

            “God yes you should, you’ll probably give him an aneurysm. Hermann, this is Caitlin. Caitlin, this is Hermann Gottlieb. He’s not good at talking to new people so keep the words small until he’s sure you’re not a threat to his superiority complex.”

            “ _Newton you abominable sack of shhhhello, Doctor Lightcap,”_ Gottlieb said, quickly catching himself as Lightcap sat down at the vidcall console. “ _I…it’s…I wish I was meeting you under better circumstances, I…I’ve been following your work for over a decade, the programming algorithms you developed for the Pons neural interfaces are absolutely, absolutely brilliant and…and I’m rambling, please excuse me.”_

He swallowed hard, visibly trying to collect himself.

            “Nice to meet you too, Doctor Gottlieb,” Lightcap said pleasantly. “Newt’s told me...well, next to nothing about you, actually.”

            Gottlieb gave Newt a look of utter betrayal, making him laugh.

            “J-tech _groupie,_ ” Newt said, rolling the R heavily. Gottlieb started to retort but then glanced at Lightcap before he could warm to the new tirade. He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair, trying to regain a level of relative calm.

            “ _Perhaps there will be time soon to have a proper conversation,”_ he said. “ _I would hate for you to think our branch of the Corp only employs kaiju-loving idiots with no sense of social propriety.”_

            “I’m sure there’ll be time enough at some point,” Lightcap said. She put a hand on Newt’s shoulder. “And he’s not so bad! Get past the frothing ranting and ammonia odor and he’s almost civilized.”

            “I thought you said you _loved_ my ammonia smell,” Newt said in a hurt tone. “What else have you been lying to me about?”

            Lightcap patted his shoulder consolingly.

            “We need to talk about you trying to bite people when they make sudden moves, dear. It’s becoming an issue.”

            Gottlieb actually laughed, but then stared narrowly at Newt.

            “ _He hasn’t…Newton, you haven’t actually been biting people again, have you?”_

            “Dude, shut up. That only happened once.”

            Lightcap gave him a startled look.

            “Wait. You really bit someone?”

            Newt threw his hands up and shrugged in mock-exasperation.

            “I’m sorry, the _bloodthirsty dying kaiju_ that burrowed into my brain thought it was a great idea at the time!”

            “ _I don’t suppose the new tenant’s any better behaved?_ ” Gottlieb asked, looking at Newt closely. “ _I…can’t exactly tell, from my end.”_

Newt sobered, running a hand over the back of his head. The bond had been quiescent, the chronic icy pain of it fading to an uncomfortable pinprick he barely even noticed.

            “It’s a real bond, none of that weird possession shit,” he said eventually. “We’re okay. It’s…it’s different this time around.”

            Gottlieb scowled, shaking his head in aimless disapproval.

            “ _Bonded to a brain in a tank,”_ he said. “ _Of all the outlandish…honestly, I just can’t believe you don’t have brain damage at this point. It’s astonishing.”_

“Uh. Yeah, about that…” Newt scratched at the cold, prickling spot, looking everywhere but at Gottlieb. “I wouldn’t term it _brain damage,_ but…”

            “ _But what?”_

“There may be some, uh…side effects? Maybe?”

            Gottlieb studied Newt’s apprehensive expression briefly, then sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward.

            “ _Is your memory really that short? I’ve already told you, be it arguments or nightmares or side effects…I don’t care, Newton,”_ he said patiently.He smiled, very slightly. “ _You’re still the utterly frustrating imbecile I’ve had to deal with for ten years, an extra quirk or ten isn’t going to change anything.”_

Newt echoed Gottlieb’s smile, his hand dropping away from the back of his head.

            “Thanks.”

            “Oh, _shit.”_

Newt and Lightcap both looked over at Tendo, startled. Even Gottlieb was craning towards the screen trying to see, but something caught his attention on another computer screen and he turned away.

            “What?” Lightcap asked. “What’s the matter?”

            “Shit,” Tendo hissed under his breath, rapidly opening several screens, enlarging the world map readout. He had linked his computer to Gottlieb’s to make the monitoring process easier, and the screen was flashing with warning signals. Newt watched in growing alarm as a blinking red wave spread out from the coast of France, rippling over land and out to sea with terrifying speed.

            “What the hell just happened?” he asked, staring at the display. “Was that a _surge?_ ”

            “ _It’s happening again,”_ Gottlieb said. “ _Damn it, it’s happened again, there’s-”_

“How could it be going that fast?” Newt interrupted, looking from Tendo to Gottlieb and back again. “The Chicago surge wasn’t going that fast! The surges _stopped!”_

            “ _It was a respite period between attempts,”_ Gottlieb said sharply. “ _The first Breach failed almost immediately, they must have been…been priming for the second one. This is-”_

A fuzzy warning message started playing over the PA and Gottlieb jolted at the sound of it, looking upwards.

            “ _Damn it, they’re shutting down again. Monitor communications as best you can, I don’t know when we’ll be back online again. Tendo, send me everything we miss, I-“_

Without warning the vidcall screen suddenly went black. Newt tried to reconnect the call at once, slamming his hands on the keyboard.

            “No,” he said frantically. “No, _no!_ Shit! Tendo, fix it!”

            “I can’t, the power’s down on their side,” Tendo said, watching the map readout. There was a soft ping of an alarm as a second wave bloomed inland in North America, radiating outwards from Colorado. “Oh, no. Oh no, _no_.”

            “Is that a second surge?” Lightcap asked, magnifying the Colorado readout. “That’s…”

            “They’re opening,” Newt said, voice strangled. “Jesus, they’re _opening_. A hundred doors, Jesus _Christ…_ ”

            “It’s not a hundred, not yet,” Tendo said, watching the Colorado and France waves intersect. The computer display gave a sudden heavy flicker, and the lights buzzed far too loudly above them. Newt looked up at them and then down at the map display again, watching the waves blink rapidly across the screen.

He didn’t know where Pitcairn was on the map, but he knew the waves had to be almost on top of them; they were moving too fast, too much too quickly, the doors were opening again and there was no way to stop it. He shuddered in perfect horror as he watched the display and the waves crashing across it, the doors were opening just like Scunner had said, they were _coming again_ -

 

_fear?fear?  pa  thway open fear       d  ire  ctive   ?_

_no no no not now please I can’t deal with you right now not NOW_

_di rect   ive_

_s  top     them ?_

“Fuck,” Newt hissed, holding his head in his hands and pushing away from the desk, the pinprick of ice spreading painfully across the back of his head, sending cold shudders down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Not now, please, not _now.”_

Lightcap was talking somewhere above him but Newt couldn’t focus on her, the voiceless words of the hivemind seeming to reverberate through his skull.

_Were you spying the whole time? Were you listening?_

_l onel y  too qui et   w anted drifthive  bond listen  fear fe lt fear   se lf is afraid we  could hear  y ou_

_“_ Jesus, he’s bleeding again-”

“What? What the hell do you mean, is he okay?”

           

_let me go you can’t do this I told you never to do this don’t start this again I **trusted you**_

_lis tened learned saw fearfearfear the  y are coming_

_em  pty wrongwrongwrong th ey come they come theycometheycometheycome no hive   no hi ve_

_k  i ll   th e m_

The ice gave an agonizing shift and Newt gasped, eyes flying open. He struggled to sit up– how the hell had he gotten on the floor? – wiping harshly at his face and trying to clean off the blood from his latest nosebleed. Lightcap and Tendo were kneeling beside him on either side, both looking frightened.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

            “Don’t _worry?”_ Tendo said sharply, but Lightcap cut him off with a look and helped Newt sit up.

            “What just happened?” she asked. Newt looked around, trying to get his bearings again. The ice shifted and he grit his teeth against the pain of it, trying to ignore the hivemind as it whispered at the edges of his own mind. It was scared just like he was, frightened of the emptiness.

            “Empty?” he asked aloud. “Empty, I don’t….I don’t understand, what’s empty? What’s coming?”

           

            _wrongwrongwrongwrong they come they co me  directive?directive? silencesilencesilence fear wrong fear_

_“_ Something’s coming,” Newt said, shaking his head hard. “Something’s coming through again, they’re coming, something’s wrong-”

           

 

            _sile nce only silence  fearpain fearfear directive   w e  have dire  ctive  they have no  directive differentwrongwrong   th ey  come   homehomehome no  h ome  no hive wrong_

“Newt, what’s happening? What’s it saying?” Lightcap asked. Tendo helped him up and into his chair, catching him as he almost slid out of it again. Newt pressed his hands against the sides of his head, eyes tightly closed again and blood running freely from his nose.

            “They’re here,” he said, shaking with fear that was not entirely his own. “The door’s open again. They’re _here.”_


	31. Chapter 31

31.

 

 

            It was almost anticlimactic, the way the first new kaiju emerged. Its head had slowly crested out from the Breach, eyes blinking in the harsh desert sunlight. It hoisted itself up and out of the portal with one arm, falling heavily to the ground and taking a moment to steady itself and adjust to its new environment. It had struggled briefly to push itself up with its left arm, straining as it grew accustomed to the change in gravity- its right arm was merely a stump shorn off almost to the shoulder, flailing uselessly. A good portion of its face was missing as well; what had once been a long, bony snout was now a stub, the cauterized scar glowing faint blue where the failed Chicago Breach had snipped it off.

              Chrome Brutus waited at the edge of the Sonoran Desert, idling at the established Miracle Mile. Deployment had been rapid, the Jaeger flown out from Los Angeles and across into Colorado with remarkable speed, though the military had beaten the Shatterdome’s response time by an hour. They had been dispatched into the desert in an attempt to subdue the kaiju before it could venture too far towards settled areas, intent on steering it back towards the Breach.

The first wave of Air Force squadrons had been wiped out completely. The planes had been swatted out of the air by the kaiju’s massive remaining claws or its tapering, whip-like tail, and they fell to earth in flames. The kaiju simply kept walking through the carnage and ruin, indifferent.

            “ _Alright you two, you know the drill,”_ Herc said over the radio. “ _This is a category three and it’s already wounded, so that gives you an upper hand. If you can take down two cat fours on your own, this son of a bitch shouldn’t be a problem.”_

            “Yes sir,” Mako said, readjusting her helmet one last time and testing to make sure her feet stayed firmly latched onto the walker platforms. Beside her, Raleigh was absently flexing his fingers in the control ring, testing the response time in Chrome’s hand.

            “It still feels rusty,” he said to Mako in an undertone. “They should’ve fixed this, you _told_ them to look into it.”

            “Don’t look for problems we don’t have time to fix,” Mako murmured. “When the fight comes you will not even notice it.”

            “What, you don’t think the army’s gonna drive it back into the Breach?” Raleigh asked, a shade of gallows humor in his tone. Mako rolled her eyes tolerantly.

            “Maybe it will get scared and run home with its tail between its legs.”

            The levity failed after a moment, Mako and Raleigh keenly aware of each other’s true thoughts through the Drift. The bond thrummed with nervous energy through the Pons, anxieties and worries they had hid from one another and everyone else finally exposed. They glanced at each other and shared the same rueful smile.

            “Nervous?” Raleigh asked. Mako shook her head.

            “I just didn’t think we would be back here again so soon.”

            Chrome’s core hummed and pulsed like a heartbeat somewhere below them, the subtle vibration of it coursing through the Jaeger’s frame. It felt almost in time with their own heartbeats; it was comforting, in a way. Mako closed her eyes and watched through Raleigh’s as he tested the control ring one last time, studying how Chrome’s hand responded outside.

            “But it’s where we belong,” he said softly. Mako leaned back against her harness arm and opened her eyes, looking towards the screen arrays. Power readings, hull integrity and weapons statistics flashed and scrolled across the holographic displays, throwing hard, bright light into the Conn-Pod. The beat of Chrome’s core pulsed through Mako and she was certain it _was_ in synch to her heart. Raleigh drew in the same deep breath as her, holding it in just for a moment before letting it out in a long, slow exhalation.

            “It’s already hurt,” Raleigh said. “It’ll be favoring that side, so if we can break its defense and get to its weak spot we can knock it down and keep it there.”

            “But it’s got four eyes, there’s no blind spots to take advantage of,” Mako said, continuing Raleigh’s thought. She opened another screen on the console and replayed a short, grainy video LOCCENT had been receiving from the Air Force scouting sorties before they had been destroyed in the first wave.

On the screen, the kaiju loped on its three legs gracelessly and used its tail as leverage to compensate for its missing limb. It stumbled more than once, but turned the falls to its advantage as it swept upwards with its tail and whipped planes from the sky before pushing itself up again. It didn’t seem to care about the gunfire and bombs blasting against its hide, shrugging off the flames and shrapnel. Through all of it, it did not once make a sound. Mako found its silence unsettling, and through the Drift bond she felt Raleigh’s echoing sentiment.

“It _is_ weird,” he muttered. “Half their game is intimidation. It doesn’t make a peep.”

“It doesn’t act like it’s aware of itself,” Mako said. “It’s moving and attacking, but there’s no self-preservation.”

The video played on, the tinny sound of gunfire and bomb blasts echoing thinly through the Conn-Pod. The kaiju’s head swung slowly from side to side as it endured the assault; the two pairs of eyes moved independently of each other as they observed the attacking army forces. A fighter jet flew close to its face from the right side, trying to take advantage of the weak spot.

The kaiju looked up at it and allowed it to fire at its face before it responded, its jaws swinging open hideously wide and snatching the jet out of the air. It crunched down on the jet and the explosion blew out a few of its teeth, smoke and flame pouring from its mouth as it spat the ruined remains out.

“If we take out the tail, we can cripple it,” Mako said, watching the video narrowly.

“If we can get ahold of it,” Raleigh replied. “But why send an injured kaiju at all? Why not just scrap it and send in another?”

“You set off an atom bomb in the middle of their production facility,” Mako said, closing the video screen and giving Raleigh a long look. “They are probably using every resource they have left until it is used up entirely. They won’t throw away a kaiju now just because it is minus an arm.”

            “Here’s hoping they’re all this damaged,” Raleigh muttered. Mako smiled thinly, though she jolted and snapped to attention as the radio clicked on again.

            “ _Alright. Time to cut the chatter, Chrome. Move in, it’s broken past the last squadron and it’s headed your way from six klicks east._ _Engage and terminate.”_

            “Yes, sir,” Mako and Raleigh barked. Chrome’s core gave a strong pulse as the Jaeger began to walk. Above them a pair of spotter choppers followed, weaving in the air like dragonflies on the wing. They wouldn’t be much use in combat, but it was a small comfort to have at least some semblance of backup.

            A thick cloud of dust and smoke blew across the desert as though heralding the kaiju’s approach. Its scaly hide smoldered and it left a bright splattering trail behind it, its wounded mouth drooling blood into the dirt. It slowed as it saw Chrome approach and its head cocked to one side. All four eyes focused on the Jaeger keenly.

            _Knock it off balance,_ Raleigh thought.

            _Cripple the tail first if we can,_ Mako answered.

            The kaiju shook itself from head to tail, its tip cracking in the air like a whip. It lowered its head and began a loping charge, the flat stump of its snout a perfect battering ram. For something so large it moved alarmingly fast. Raleigh and Mako shifted their feet and raised their arms defensively, bracing as the kaiju slammed into Chrome with crushing force. Chrome’s feet plowed deeply back into the dirt, legs buckling. Raleigh and Mako roared, pushing with all their strength against the kaiju.

            Knocked off balance, the kaiju staggered and twisted away to protect its right side, its tail smashing against the Conn-Pod’s side. A thin web of cracks bloomed in one corner of the reinforced visor as the metal strained under the assault. Chrome ducked down as the tail swung towards it again, grabbing handfuls of dirt and rock and throwing it in the kaiju’s face. It swung its head away a second too late, two of its eyes blinded by the debris. It reared back onto its back legs and pawed at its eyes, startled.

            Mako drew her arm back and threw a hard punch. Chrome’s fist slammed into the kaiju’s throat, forcing a spewing geyser of blood out of its mouth. It staggered again and fell heavily onto its back, struggling to roll over.

  _Grab the tail!_

The kaiju coughed out another mouthful of blood, tried to right itself. Its tail slithered in the dirt, churning up dust clouds that threatened to obscure Chrome’s vision. The Jaeger bent down, grasping once, twice, then finally grabbing hold and twisting it mercilessly into loops, reeling the kaiju towards it. Bones crunched and the kaiju howled silently, cords standing in its neck as it fought to free itself.

            There was a sickeningly wet ripping sound, and suddenly the tail came off completely. It thrashed wildly in Chrome’s grip, and in the confusion the kaiju kicked upwards with its back legs and caught the Jaeger in the chest. Chrome twisted as it fell and caught itself on hands and knees. In the Conn-Pod, Mako and Raleigh were thrown back hard and then pitched forward as the Jaeger fell, the harness arms straining to hold them upright. The spotters were still flying high above them and the radio buzzed to life.

            “ _Chrome, on your six! It’s coming, get up!”_

Hissing through clenched teeth at the effort, Mako and Raleigh tried to push up. Almost as soon as Chrome began to rise the kaiju pounced and pinned it. Its claws scraped against the hull, seeking to grab hold.

            _Roll! Shake it off!_

            Chrome rolled to the right and the kaiju pressed itself against the Jaeger, trying to keep hold. The stump of its right arm slammed uselessly against Chrome’s back and the left snaked around the Jaeger’s neck in a headlock.

            _There’s coolant vents on the sides-_

_-fire them, empty the tanks, just like with Otachi-_

Raleigh reached out, slamming his hand down on the console. There was a hiss of decompression as the coolant vents opened, plumes of gas washing over the kaiju. It shrieked voicelessly and rolled off Chrome, pawing at its face again.  Frozen shards of its skin and flesh began flaking off and littering the ground as it twisted and writhed.

            _Get up get up get up get up GET UP_

Chrome rolled to its feet, leaving a trail of coolant gas behind as it took a few steps back from the kaiju. It had staggered backwards and tripped over its own still-writhing tail, falling hard into the dirt.  Mako and Raleigh traded looks.

            _I’ve never seen a kaiju trip before._

With a loud, heaving breath, the kaiju pushed itself up and shook itself off again. It slunk back as Chrome approached it, scraping its belly across the ground as it retreated. It stared at Chrome wildly; one of its eyes had been frozen and shattered, the remnants hanging from the socket.

_This thing’s almost done. Engage the cannon and let’s fry this son of a bitch._

Mako flexed her hand and the Jaeger responded, Chrome’s arm shifting seamlessly into the plasma cannon array. She leveled the cannon at the kaiju’s head. Reflexively it tried shield itself with its right arm; the stump rose in pathetic salute. The first cannon blast caught it in the face and it rocked back, falling hard to the ground again.

_“Chrome, LOCCENT reports movement from the Breach! Another one’s already out and on the move, its coming this way!”_

_Already?_

_A double event._

_Or as frequently as they can push them through._

The second cannon blast ripped through the kaiju’s chest, caving it in. The kaiju rolled upright and backed away, hunched over and gasping. Its jaw worked and it bared its teeth at the Jaeger, and without warning lowered its head again and charged. Chrome spun out of the way and the kaiju kept going, turning the charge into a frantic, loping run.

            _It’s running away?_

            The kaiju didn’t look back, bent on fleeing from Chrome. Mako fired the cannon again and it caught the kaiju’s back legs, sending it sprawling. It tried to push itself up again and failed, its arm buckling and giving out from under it. It rolled onto its side and watched Chrome approach it. Its burst of cowardice seemingly forgotten, it watched the plasma cannon level with its head once more with a blank, eerie calm. The blast took half of its face off and it fell heavily into the dirt.

            _Double tap._

_Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten._

The cannon discharged twice more, the kaiju’s limp body shuddering from the force. Mako lowered her arm and allowed herself the smallest sigh of relief; Raleigh echoed it, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck.

            “Good warm-up,” he said.

            “Ready to go again?” Mako asked.

            “Thought you’d never ask.”

            The Jaeger turned heavily and marched into the desert, the spotter choppers trailing faithfully behind.

 

\--

 

            Herc let out a long sigh as he leaned back, running his hands through his hair. He stared at the screen that tapped into Chrome’s camera feeds, then at the diagnostic readouts. No major damage to speak of, and more than half of a full clip in the cannon.

            “Chrome, your next target IDs as a category four,” he said, pulling the mic close. “Proceed with caution. Military’s regrouping and moving in to back you up.”

            _“Understood, Marshall. Any of them carrying heavier artillery?”_

“Nuke payloads are last resort, Chrome. We don’t have enough to throw around for each event. They’ll know when to step in.”

            _“Understood, sir.”_

The radio clicked off and Herc sat back again, watching Chrome’s video feed. He switched to one of the spotters, the aerial view allowing a better scope of the desert.

            “How’s it looking in Aquitaine?” he asked quietly, looking at the LOCCENT tech sitting next to him. The tech shook his head, opening a new vid-screen. There were no Jaegers to defend against the second Breach, and the pair of category three kaiju that had crawled out of it were wreaking havoc on the French coastline. The assembled military was struggling to push them back before they could get to populated areas.

            “How recent is this?”

            “Twenty minutes ago, sir,” the tech said. He moved to close the screen but Herc stopped him with a slight shake of his head.

            “Leave it up,” he said. The tech hesitated, then nodded and moved over to another terminal. Herc watched it for a moment, and then opened a vidcall screen to the lab.

            “Doctor Gottlieb, are you seeing all this?”

            “ _Since it started, sir.”_

            “Has Doctor Geiszler been watching as well?”

            There was a brief silence and Herc glanced over at the screen. Gottlieb looked troubled, shaking his head.

            “ _Newton had to… step away for a moment,”_ he said. “ _Doctor Lightcap and Tendo have been observing in his stead.”_

            “Neither of them are kaiju specialists. Tell them to bring him back immediately. The way that thing was behaving…” Herc looked to the video feed again. The kaiju were halfway inland now, cutting a swathe of destruction through the military. “I’ve never seen a kaiju act like that before. There’s something different about them, something wrong.”

            “ _I’ll pass the message along, sir.”_

 

\--

 

            “Well, you heard the Marshall,” Gottlieb said, turning to the vidcall with Tendo. “Is he alright?”

            “ _He stopped gushing blood like a faucet at least,_ ” Tendo said dryly, casting a look behind him. “ _The hivemind’s still freaking out on him, though.”_

            Gottlieb hissed a long stream of curses under his breath, anxiety twisting into fierce anger.

            “The moment he carts that wretched thing into the lab I’m going to smash its tank,” he spat. “If… _when_ he has recouped enough, have him report in to the Marshall. Something _is_ wrong with these new kaiju.”

            _“Yeah, that’s what’s got the hivemind so wound up,_ ” Tendo said. “ _It keeps saying they’re ‘empty’. It’s…it’s actually **scared**.”_

            “Empty?”

            Tendo shrugged wearily.

            “ _I’ll ask Newt again about it once he’s not so scattered. We’ll check in ASAP.”_

The screen blinked off into standby. Gottlieb sat back heavily, turning from the vidcall console to his main computer. It was the smallest, sparest of kindnesses that the power surges had stopped; no need to worry about equipment failure.  He flicked through several screens until he found the active world map, opening it again and studying it.

            In the space of half an hour another new Breach had opened; Gottlieb doubted very much that it would be the last.


	32. Chapter 32

32.

 

 

 

            Newt was sitting out in the hallway on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest and his arms over his head as he willed the anxiety attack building in him to fade. He couldn’t watch the surveillance footage. Every time he tried the hivemind began to panic, a constant stream of noise and impressions that threatened to overpower him completely. After daring to try and watch the fight between Chrome and the mutilated category three, the terror that had surged through him at the sight of the kaiju had been so strong it had almost made him physically sick.

 

            _Empty empty emptywrong cannot reach_   _no  h ive  alonealonealone_

Newt shuddered, resisting the urge to scratch at the throbbing spot at the back of his head. It was pointless to be angry at the hivemind; it was frightened, and snapping at it would only make the situation worse.

 

            _If you could let me work I could try and fix this. They need me to help._

_Nonononononono cannot w atch cannot reach emptywrong self doe s not understand_

_I’m **trying** to understand. You’re interfering with me again, I told you not to do this!_

_N o no no no geiszlerhumanself is    wrong  no inter f ering  cannot  look  no hive emptywrong no drift no hive empty_

_W e fear si lence  why does self no t fear self does not unde rstand_

“So _help me_ understand,” Newt muttered aloud. “Stop rambling. Just…just _tell_ me what this is.”

The hivemind went quiet but Newt could still feel the fearful brooding presence of it, his head aching as though shards of ice were being driven into his skull. Newt bit back a frustrated growl. Beside him, the door to the lab squeaked open.

            “Newt?”

            “Hey.”

            Newt didn’t bother to look up as Tendo sat beside him.

            “They’re still giving you trouble, huh?”

            Managing a dry laugh, Newt finally let his arms fall away and sat up a bit. His glasses had been knocked askew and he fixed them absently, squinting through a smudge in the lenses.

            “I can’t watch it,” he said. “I feel like I’m going to puke if I even try thinking about it.”

            “Marshall’s still asking after you,” Tendo said, not without sympathy. “I don’t think he’s going to take that as an excuse.”

            “I know.” Newt sighed, resting his head down against his knees. He looped his arms around his legs and knotted his fingers together so he wouldn’t scratch. “How’s Chrome doing?”

            “Finished off the tripod, now it’s moving onto the next one,” Tendo said. “Big son of a bitch, too.”

            “As in Leatherback big or Slattern big?”

            “Uncomfortably between the two.”

           

_slatternleatherback kaiju?kaiju? namesnamesnames no names no h ive empty cannot reach canno t reach_

 

            Newt’s head rolled back on his shoulders and he gave a strangled hiss, eyes squeezed shut and expression contorting. For something that had no voice, the hivemind could still be incredibly loud when it wanted to be. It fell dormant again after a moment and Newt shook himself hard. Tendo put a hand on his shoulder, and Newt forced an eye open.

            “I’m okay,” he said. The disbelieving look on Tendo’s face made him laugh again, very slightly. “I _am_ , I swear.”

            “When you stop twitching and flailing like you’re possessed I’ll believe you.”

            “No, see, we already went the possession route. _This_ is someone being scared to death and screaming about it every five seconds.”

            The door creaked open again and Lightcap stuck her head out, looking around for them. Newt and Tendo looked up at her silently and she sighed, going out into the hall and sitting at Newt’s other side. The surveillance video was still playing at full volume in the lab and Newt gave another shudder at the sounds of combat.

            They sat quietly together for a moment, listening to the muffled noise. There was the ping of an incoming vidcall as well, lending a rhythmic musical chime to the staccato rattle of gunfire and occasional explosion. Neither Lightcap nor Tendo said a word, simply waiting.  Newt sighed heavily and forced himself to sit up straight.

            “Tell me what it was doing,” he said, eyes closing as he rested his head against the wall. “Hansen said it was acting strange. Tell me what it was doing.”

            “It tripped over its tail at one point,” Tendo said. “It popped off like a lizard’s and it was whipping around. Chrome dropped it, and it tripped the kaiju up.”

            “It tried to run away,” Lightcap added. “It didn’t make it very far.”

            Kaiju were a lot of things, but not clumsy or cowardly. Calculating, vicious, single-minded; that’s what a kaiju in combat was. Forces of nature driven to follow their masters’ directive. Newt couldn’t even picture a kaiju stumbling, much less turning tail and running away.

 

            _t he directive we follow nonono we followed no directive   now   they are lost b ut they still  follow  howhowhow how can they follow sil ence_

            “How can they follow silence,” Newt echoed, eyes opening. The ice seemed to trickle down his spine, chilling him to the core. “How can…cannot reach. Oh. _Oh._ Oh, my _God_.”

            Lightcap and Tendo traded glances, and then looked to him uncertainly.

            “Newt?”

            Newt shook his head, pushing himself up and standing a little unsteadily. The hivemind worried the edges of his mind like a dog with a bone, its mutterings ringing in his head.

            “Silence,” he said sharply. “Empty… _empty._ Jesus, they’re _empty.”_

He turned on his heel and stared down at Lightcap and Tendo, then without warning grabbed both of them by the arms and hoisted them up.

            “They’re acting wrong because there’s no hivemind,” he said. “There’s nothing steering them. They…”

            He let go of them, falling back a few steps and running his hands roughly through his hair. The hivemind hissed and muttered, a fearful pattern of _empty empty empty_ reverberating through him.

            “How can that be?” Lightcap asked. “What’s steering them if there’s n-”

            She cut herself off mid-word, going pale.

            “That’s…no. That can’t be possible.”

            Tendo looked from her to Newt and back again, puzzled.

            “What? What’s happening?”

            Newt took several deep breaths, cricked his head hard to one side, and without warning stormed into the lab again. He gave a pained sound though he had been struck as the noise swept over him and Tendo rushed to catch him as he staggered back. Newt leaned against the doorframe briefly, then shook his head hard again and went in.

            The video feed of Aquitaine’s Breach blared on one of the computers at the table, a scouting sortie trailing after the pair of kaiju as they pushed further and further inland. They reminded Newt of Onibaba – heavily armored and slow-moving, looking like walking mountains. They were twins in design, perfect mirror images of each other. The virulent red stripes glowing over their carapaces were interrupted with bright splotches of blood that dripped in trails behind them and stained the ground.  

           

_th ey are not us  we are n ot them they follow   silence  how how how n o hive lostlost alone_

Newt leaned forward on the table, propping himself up with his elbows and trying to get a breath in. The hivemind’s distress felt like a sickness in him. Tendo and Lightcap had followed him in, standing behind him and watching the screen.

“There’s no hivemind in them,” Newt repeated, voice wavering. “It’s gone. The hive that they used for the original kaiju is _gone._ ”

            He looked up at Lightcap and then pointed to the screen. The kaiju were still on the move, shrugging off every attack the military threw at them.

            “It’s the Precursors,” he said. “The kaiju aren’t running on an autonomous system anymore. It’s gone. They aren’t being driven by a directive-“

“They’re being _piloted,_ ” Lightcap said.

            There was a sound of multiple explosions that drew their attention back to the screen. The kaiju were being attacked on all sides by several squadrons of fighter jets, bunkering down and drawing their limbs to their bodies to hide under the thick armor of their carapaces. They moved forward with single-minded determination, slowly crawling as the planes bombed them overhead.

            The vidcall console pinged again loudly, making Newt, Tendo and Lightcap jump. Newt activated it intent only on muting it; a screen with the flashing words _fifteen missed calls, fifteen new messages_ blinked accusingly at him.

            “Ah, shit.”

            He opened the voicemail screen rather reluctantly.

            “Hansen, Hansen, Hermann, Hansen…” he read aloud, flicking through the list. In the background the kaiju gave twin screeches as they endured the ongoing assault and he flinched at the sound of it. It went on and on until it seemed the shrieks and gunfire were all he could hear, and he slammed his hand down on the console’s keyboard, desperate to mute it. Lightcap gently moved his hand away and tapped a key, and the feed went silent.

            Closing his eyes and pressing the heels of his palms hard against them, Newt took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down, starting to shiver uncontrollably.

            “Tendo, could you go get us some water, maybe?” Lightcap asked softly. The lab door squeaked open a moment later, and there was a rustle of clothing and the scraping of a chair as Lightcap sat down beside him.

            “I’m sorry,” Newt said. His hands fell away and he sat hunched over in his chair, head hanging. “I’m sorry.”

            “For what?” Lightcap asked. Newt shrugged listlessly, running his fingertips along the lines of his tattoo of Yamarashi. Lightcap caught his hand in hers and he glanced up at her.

            “I’m falling apart. I’m supposed to be helping and I can barely even think straight,” he said. He nodded towards the video feed; the twin kaiju had broken through the resistance at last, plowing deep inland. “There’s no stopping this. It’s only going to get worse, they’re going to keep coming and coming and we…this is it. We’re _done_.”

            The hivemind shifted and whispered plaintively in the corners of his mind, its fear and loneliness washing over him in a cold wave. He started to shiver again.

            “You _are_ helping,” Lightcap said softly, drawing his attention back before the hivemind could smother him. He glanced at her wryly. “Don’t give me that look. It’s true.”

            “And look how much of a difference it’s made,” he said. “How long do you think we’ll be able to fight back before we’re overwhelmed completely?”

            “I don’t know. Guess we won’t find out unless we try, huh?”

            “Mm. Do or do not,” Newt muttered dryly. Lightcap snorted.

            “That’s not funny.”

            “You got it though, it’s a _little_ funny,” Newt said, grinning. Lightcap rolled her eyes and turned away, glancing at the vidcall console as it gave another insistent ping.

            “We should probably call them back.”

            “Probably,” Newt said, reaching over with his free hand and minimizing the notification screen. “Not going to, though.”

            “Newt...”

            “No,” he said flatly. “They’re going to look at me like I know how to help stop this and I have nothing for them. I can’t tell them anything. I can’t _do_ anything.”

            He sat back and pulled away from Lightcap, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. The icy spot at the back of his head gave an unhelpful twinge and he winced at the pain.

            “I’m tired, Caitlin,” he muttered. “I’m so _tired_.”

            Lightcap said nothing. She looked aimlessly around the room, her gaze finally settling on the computer Tendo had been working at. The world map projection was showing several new event sites outlined in blinking red. Lightcap frowned and got up, going over to the computer and studying the map. Her expression slowly shifted into something unreadable.

            “What is it?” Newt asked.

            “More Breaches,” Lightcap said, giving Newt a sidelong look. “Iceland, Nigeria and Taiwan.”

            Newt was silent for a moment, then shook himself hard and forced himself to get up, studying the display over Lightcap’s shoulder. He reached out and tapped the blinking red dot in Iceland and linked in to a new video feed. It was blurry and static-ridden, a shaky hand following a new kaiju’s path through volcanic flatlands.

            “Small island, all things considered,” Newt said. “Two or three more and it’ll be enough to demolish everything within days.”

            He magnified the video, morbidly curious. Someone was speaking frantically in the background and the camera shook from time to time as they tracked the kaiju.

            “Never seen one that looks like this before,” Lightcap said. “It’s almost _bovine.”_

            “It’s not built like it’s made for combat,” Newt said, magnifying the blurred video again. He paused it and tried to clean the image up a bit. The kaiju was impossibly tall and bulky, but it lacked any kind of notable claws or armoring; its body was covered in long tendrils that swept across the ground and left a trail of bioluminescent slime behind. Its belly swelled in ugly distension, the skin stretched and seeming ready to split.

            “This is something different,” Newt said, staring at it. “I think it’s…Christ, I think they’re sending in terraformers.”

            “What?”

            “It’s a living terraformer. Look at what it’s doing.” Newt rewound the video, pointing to the tendrils as the kaiju wandered through the flats. Bright rivers of slime oozed off them, quickly soaking into the ashen soil. “Just like with Hundun. Reworking the soil.”

            “They wouldn’t send something like that unprotected,” Lightcap said, looking up at Newt. “One shot to its gut and it’ll pop.”

            “Maybe they’re counting on that,” Newt said, shrugging. “Otachi was pregnant with a replacement combat specimen. Maybe this thing’s full of baby terraformers.”

            “They’re not even going to bother wiping us out before they start moving in,” Lightcap said, staring at the kaiju with disgust. “They’re going to build right on top of us.”

 

            _emptyempty cold emptyalon e  no hive no home no home silencesilencesilence_

Newt gave a shudder and had to look away from the screen.

 

            _Any bright ideas how to stop them? That’s the directive I gave you, remember?_

_directive f ailed failedfailed cannot reach no hive emptyalone stopthemstopthem canno t reach fill sil ence cannot fill needneedneed_

_how can you even tell what’s in them or not?_

The ice shifted again painfully. Newt winced, putting both hands on the back of his head. The hivemind was growing anxious again, pressing itself as close to Newt’s mind as it dared, fearful he would drive it away again. He sighed wearily.

           

_It’s okay. You’re fine, I’m not angry. It’s okay. You can talk to me._

_Silencesilencesilence t hey are empty we try we try to cor rect try to rejoin cannot reach cannot t ou ch wantwantwant want to follow geiszlerhumanself gave directive cannot foll ow fearpainanger want to follow wantwantwant_

_H elp us  reach_

Newt’s hands slowly fell away from his head and he went very still. Lightcap was distracted watching a static-ridden newsfeed from Taiwan, studying a heavy-jawed kaiju that was rampaging through crowded city streets.

 

            _Help you reach? What the hell do you mean?_

            _Bridgeponsdrift driftdrifthive drifthive reach we call b ut cannot be heard   we   try   we try w e are made to be  uni fied_

_One kai ju  is  all  we reach but cannot grab   hold_

_Geiszlerhuman  and gottliebh uman  are same same drift same hive drifthivebond_

_w hy can  we not reach ou rselves  ?_

“Are you telling me you could rejoin them?” Newt asked aloud, voice so soft it was barely audible. The ice shifted again, subtle shivers of pain prickling through his skull.

 

            _We used   self  to capture  oth er self we are  made to be unified  one piece calls to other pieces but the wa y is shut_

_we call we call the si lence needs to be filled we will fill it but we cann ot reach self cou ld reach self could en dure silence we coul d follow directive nosilencenosilence_

Newt stood up unsteadily and scrubbed at his face, his eyes blurred and burning; a few tears streaked down his face before he could stop them. Hope, treacherous and unwanted, was building in him.

 

            _And just how is this supposed to work?_

_self  has been a bridge     before_

_we ca n use self  again_

“Ah, _fuck.”_

“Newt?”

            He turned to look at Lightcap, unable to stop a bitter laugh at her startled expression. She got up at once and went to him, grabbing a tissue out of her pocket and pressing it to his face. It came away smeared with red.

            “What are you two talking about?” she asked in a low voice. Newt took the tissue again and dabbed at the nosebleed.

            “I just had a really shitty idea,” he said. “Want to come help?”


	33. Chapter 33

33.

 

            _is  th is all that  is left?_

_we re member being     m ore   than this_

“Yeah. You kind of downsized. Sorry about that.”

            The hivemind gave a disturbed shudder that Newt couldn’t help but echo, looking away from the brain sample as it floated listlessly in its specimen tank.  The lab had been closed down since the disastrous Drift test, and with the experiment suspended no one had any reason to use it; there was no need to sneak around or try to avoid being caught. Newt wandered around the room uncomfortably, going to the Pons system and giving it a nudge with the toe of his boot.

            “It should stay on properly this time,” Lightcap said dryly. Newt gave a bare laugh, looking over his shoulder at her. “So what’s the plan?”

            “I plug in, we Drift, and I send ‘em home,” Newt said. Lightcap frowned. “What? It’s…that’s all I’ve got. I told you it was a shitty idea.”

            “No, it sounds like you’ve got the basics for a _good_ one, but you’re missing a lot of stuff in-between.”

            “It’s all exposition,” Newt said dismissively. He crouched down beside the Pons and started checking bundles of wiring for loose connections. “As long as it works, who cares?”

            “ _I_ do.”

            Newt looked up and winced at the look of restrained anger on Tendo’s face.

            “How’d you figure out where-?”

            “I might’ve left a note for him,” Lightcap said. Newt gave her a dirty look and she returned it evenly, unapologetic. “It would’ve been cruel not to let him know, and you know it.”      

            “Caitlin-”

            “This cross-bearer shit really has to stop,” Tendo interrupted sharply, slamming down the water bottles he was carrying onto a nearby desk. “I’m not letting you do this again.”

            “At the risk of sounding petulant, you’re _really_ not the boss of me,” Newt retorted, standing and dusting his hands off on his jeans. “I’m not gonna fight you about this.”

            “You’re going to kill yourself,” Tendo said, closing the distance between them quickly and seizing a handful of Newt’s shirt, pulling him away from the Pons. Newt gave a startled sound, grabbing onto Tendo’s wrist and trying to pull free.

            “Get off me!”

            “No,” Tendo grated. “You’re not doing this again. I am not gonna let you kill yourself in front of me because that _thing-”_ he pointed viciously at the specimen tank, “-is telling you shit! It’s crazy. It’s _crazy_ , and you’re letting it in too close.”

            “Get off me,” Newt repeated, voice falling to a cold whisper. “I mean it.”

            “Or what?” Tendo asked. “What are you gonna do, Newt? Fight me?”

            “I don’t want to fight anyone,” Newt said. “I don’t want to make this harder than it has to be. Please. Please let me go.”

            Tendo’s grip tightened and his expression turned brittle. He shook his head slightly, trying to drag Newt back further from the Pons.

            “I won’t let you do this,” he repeated. Newt’s grip on Tendo’s wrist loosened and his hands fell limply to his sides.

            “It’s not going to stop,” he said. “It’s only going to get worse. They’re going to keep coming. The world’s breaking open all over the place, and they keep _coming._ ”

            “So suddenly you know exactly what to do, huh?” Tendo said. Newt shook his head.

            “I know what the hivemind wants to do. They’re made to be connected, remember? It wants to go back. We just… _I_ just have to open the way for it.”

            “And what happens the minute it gets back into enemy territory? It’s on the good guys’ side now, that’s what you think?”

            “No. I think it’s on _my_ side,” Newt said, very quietly.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lightcap asked. Tendo stared hard at him, his vise-like grip starting to loosen very slightly. Newt reached up again and very carefully pulled himself free, straightening his shirt and fussing absently with his twisted collar.

            “I gave it a directive,” he said. “I gave it something it needed. It _listens_ to me. It knows me inside and out, and it trusts me.”

            He looked over towards the specimen tank again, eyes flicking over the brain sample. The hivemind waited quietly at the edges of his own mind, the bond thrumming with restrained impatience.

            “You gave it orders?” Tendo asked.

            “A directive isn’t…it’s not just an _order,_ ” Newt said. “Orders can be disobeyed. Directives are… they’re _purpose_.”

            He shook his head slowly, and there was a trace of disgust in his expression.

            “It’s like playing God,” he said, looking up at Tendo. “It’s the big booming voice in the sky that they have to follow. That’s how they were designed. Eight years without one and it snapped up what I offered without a second thought.”

            The hivemind shifted subtly and Newt bit hard on his tongue, wondering if he had said too much. The hivemind didn’t question what he was saying; it was the truth, and it didn’t seem to be bothered by his explanation. Tendo fell back a step, looking from him to the specimen tank.

            “What did you tell it to do?” he asked. Newt gave a weary shrug.

            “I gave it what Pentecost gave us,” he said. Tendo stared at him, puzzled. “It’s kind of the same thing, you know. He was the leader we looked to for instruction. I mean, I’m sure he’d be pissed off at the comparison but it’s really…”

            Newt shook himself slightly, cutting off the nervous rambling before it could really start. The more he thought about it, the more his actions began to disgust him; he had imagined the directive like scraps for a dying animal, but now it felt no different than what the Precursors did. He was using the kaiju just like they had for his own ends. They would suffer and it would be his fault.

            “What did you tell the hivemind to do?” Tendo asked again. Newt looked up at him and gestured aimlessly.

            “To stop them,” Newt said. “No matter what the cost.”

            “There’s a lot of loopholes they could find in an order like that,” Tendo said. “Stopping the Precursors could mean turning Earth into a wreck so that they won’t want it anymore.”

            “No,” Newt said. “That’s not how it’s going to be.”

            “How do you know for sure?” Lightcap asked.

            “Because they want to go _home!_ ” Newt shouted. He hesitated and the sudden flash of anger died away. He ran his hands roughly through his hair and took a deep breath to settle himself down again. “You don’t understand. Even with the directive they _never_ wanted to be here. Every single one of them died screaming for home. Every single one.I gave them a directive and I can give them the way back, and that’s…they won’t turn on me.”

            He looked from Tendo to Lightcap with a pleading expression.

            “This is the only thing I can think to do. And if it doesn’t work we’re…we’re no worse off than before,” he said. “What’s there to lose in trying?”

            Tendo was silent for a moment, staring balefully at the specimen tank. When he looked back to Newt, however, his expression had softened into something very like resignation.

            “I think you’re just making this shit up as you go along,” he said. Newt stared at him for a beat, then grinned slightly.

            “I’ll have you know this is only _fifty percent_ conjecture,” he said.

            “And the other fifty?”

            “Blind faith.”

            Tendo sighed, head hanging a bit.

            “Alright,” he said. “Alright.”

            Newt watched him uncertainly, then nodded once and turned back to the Pons. Tendo went to the desk and cracked open one of the water bottles, sitting on the desk’s edge as he took a long drink.

            “Thanks for leaving me the note,” he said as Lightcap joined him, taking one of the other bottles. “He didn’t tell Doctor Gottlieb or the Marshall either, did he?”

            “No,” Lightcap said. “He didn’t.”

            “In case…”

            Tendo trailed off and the both watched Newt for a moment as he fussed over the Pons array, one hand occasionally scratching a rather abused spot at the back of his head.

            “I’ve practiced telling them he was dead so many times I can recite it by rote now,” Tendo muttered. Lightcap looked at him; the weary expression on his face seemed to age him, his eyes shadowed. “What if it doesn’t work?”

            “Then it doesn’t,” Lightcap said. “And we look for another way to fight back until we can’t anymore.”

            “Last shield against the storm huh?” Tendo said wryly. Lightcap nodded briefly. “Might as well see if our luck holds out for another lost cause.”

            Newt could hear them talking but didn’t react to it. His stomach had clenched into an ugly knot of guilt at the mention of Gottlieb. The thought of having to say goodbye was exhausting; he couldn’t find it in himself to do it again.

            He stood slowly, giving the Pons’ complex paths of wiring from the specimen tank to the headset one last look-over in case he had missed anything wanting repair. He picked up the headset and turned it over in his hands, feeling the weight of it.

 

            _Fearfearpain fearanger?anger?  driftdrift   drifthive why   do we  wait? self is  af raid ?_

_Of course I’m afraid._

_N o time no time notimenotime driftdrift m ust  drift must re a ch directive  c alls_

Newt scowled, hands gripping painfully tight on the headset.

 

            _You understand your directive, right?_

_S top  them  the  precursors stop them stopthemstopthem se lf had  directive self g ave directive   we   are  self self leads we follow  we lead se lf follows samesamesame_

There was something oddly reassuring about that. Newt’s crushing grip eased and he sighed slightly, sitting down in the array’s chair.

 

            _I trust you, you know. Do you understand what that means?_

_accep tance drift drifthivebond bond we are same we trust    self trusts all same all e qual in    hive_

Newt smiled thinly, turning the headset over in his hands again. There was no more use in delaying.

            “Caitlin,” he said. Lightcap and Tendo’s conversation stuttered as she looked over.

            “Ready?” she asked. Newt nodded mutely. Tendo’s expression echoed how he felt perfectly; shuttered fear, struggling not to let it show. The Pons hummed to life and Lightcap helped him put the headset on, the metal prongs snapping sharply into place and pressing against his temples and forehead. Newt settled back into the chair and leaned against the headrest, staring up at the ceiling.

            “Once I’m in, turn the AI off,” he said. “Once it’s gone I can…y’know.”

 Lightcap nodded, though she didn’t look pleased with the idea.

“Newt,” Tendo said. Newt glanced over to find Tendo at his side, looking down at him and obviously resisting the urge to pull him out of the chair.

            “I’ll be okay,” he said. Tendo gave him a sardonic look, making him laugh. “I _will._ ”

            “Yeah. I know you will,” Tendo said. He put a hand on Newt’s shoulder and gave him a small shake. He stepped back as Lightcap shooed him away, looking from Newt to the specimen tank with an unreadable expression. Newt drew in a deep breath and rested his head back against the chair again. Lightcap tapped a few commands into the Pons’ computer, her hand hovering over the keyboard as the start-up screen blinked on.

            “Ready?” she asked again.

            The hivemind muttered, sending anticipation and fear and a terrible, consuming _want_ thrumming through him. Newt swallowed, his mouth gone dry.

            “Do it.”

            Lightcap tapped a key.

            Newt closed his eyes.

            “ _Initiating neural bridge sequence. Neural handshake in five…four…three…two…one.”_

            The Pons blazed to life and Newt went blind. The Drift sucked him in, the  stream of noise and light pulling him under. Overwhelming at first, the stream slowly fell away as Newt forced himself to focus, seeking out the painful coldness that radiated from the kaiju bond. He opened his eyes to find himself back in the strange limbo of the AI-controlled Drift space.

 

“Newt?”

“I’m okay,” he said, turning around and trying to get his bearings. “I’m in, I’m okay.”

He squinted as the AI’s processes brightened in response to him, walling him off from the hivemind. He slammed his hands against it uselessly.

 

            _I’m here. I’m here, I’m here! Find me!_

            “The AI,” he said aloud, shouting into the Drift. “Caitlin, _turn it off!”_

There was a long, terrible pause – it felt like hours, it could only have been seconds – and suddenly the AI gave a shudder all around him. Newt watched the oscillating walls and patterns of circuits brighten - and then go out completely. Utter darkness fell, and in it Newt heard a rushing sound like a wave crashing down. Pain followed closely after and shot through Newt with terrible force; he crumpled, and couldn’t keep himself from screaming.

           

 

\--

 

            Gottlieb’s cane slipped out from under him and he stumbled, crashing into the corridor wall and sliding down to the floor. It felt as though he had had the breath knocked out of him, his head spinning and leaving him disoriented. With a curse he grabbed blindly for his cane, pressing his other hand to his face and trying to will the wave of dizziness away.

            When Newt had failed repeatedly to report in, Herc’s already-strained patience had reached its breaking point. Gottlieb hadn’t known what the Marshall expected him to be able to do up in LOCCENT, but a direct order wasn’t to be ignored. Another wave of dizziness shot through him and Gottlieb gave a strangled sound, gasping for breath. Pain, pain…but it wasn’t his, it was as though there was an afterimage being cast over him, something terrible, something _crippling._ Gottlieb’s hands clawed unconsciously at his throat; he was smothering. Something was _drowning_ him.

            Gottlieb sucked in a deep, struggling breath. It was not his pain. It was not his, but it hurt – God, it _hurt,_ he had felt pain like this before, only once before – the Drift, the failed Drift experiment-

 

            _No oh no no no not again not again not again please what  what is this don’t pull me in again_

It hurt. It _hurt._ The corridor was empty; everyone was either on the Jaeger bay floor or in LOCCENT; no one had reason to be traipsing around the halls. No one was going to find him this time. The thought spurred him on and Gottlieb grabbed his cane and tried to push himself up.

           

            _This is not my pain it is not my pain move Hermann move don’t let it in don’t let it in what has he done Newton you stupid bloody fool what have you DONE_

He made it a handful of steps before he faltered again. The pain washed over him – but it wasn’t _his_ , he didn’t feel it, how could he be feeling what wasn’t his- and with a choked sound he braced himself against the wall and slid slowly back down to the floor.

            “What have you done,” he whispered, furious and terrified. “Newton, what have you done?”

            His body burned and froze, ghosts of pain radiating out from the back of his head. He couldn’t move. With a despairing sound he pressed his hands to his face, trying to will it away.

            Footsteps approached him softly, and someone pulled his hands away from his face. A woman he didn’t recognize stared at him – and yet oddly, he did, he was _certain_ he knew her. Gottlieb squinted at her Corps ID badge, puzzled.

            “Doctor Gottlieb,” she said, exasperated. “ _Again?_ ”

            “I've never met you,” he said, voice wavering. “How can I know you if I’ve never met you?”

“Just lucky, I suppose,” the woman said. “Good thing I wanted to check on you again, eh?”

            “Miss Shé, I don’t…”

            “Just Liang is fine.”

            She hoisted him up, grunting with effort as he leaned heavily against her. She was much shorter than he was and she was already straining to keep him upright, and Gottlieb tried as best he could to straighten.

            “Where were you going?” she asked. Gottlieb pointed unerringly forward, then gave a small gasp as he lost his balance. Liang kept hold of him, letting him use her as a crutch.

            “LOCCENT. Of course,” she muttered. Another wave of pain shuddered over Gottlieb and he grabbed blindly at her, trying to keep himself from falling, and Liang gave a startled cry as her wig, cap and all, suddenly pulled free of her head.

            “Oh my _word_ , I’m...I’m sorry, I didn’t…w-why are you-?” Gottlieb spluttered, staring at her. Liang glared at him, then rolled her eyes and dragged him along.

            “It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “We’re probably all going to die soon anyway. So. You want to go to LOCCENT, or you want to go to the infirmary?”

            Gottlieb hesitated, looking over his shoulder. The infirmary was probably the wiser choice, but LOCCENT was closer.

            “As you said, Miss…Liang,” he said, wincing as pain stabbed through his head. “We are likely going to die very soon. Might as well be productive in the meantime.”

            “Right,” Liang sighed. “Hope your Marshall is in the mood for surprises.”


	34. Chapter 34

 

34.

            “What the hell are those things?”

            The LOCCENT tech rewound and magnified the video feed for Herc and focused on several small kaiju milling around the larger creature’s feet. They were more lithe and light than any kaiju Herc had ever seen, hardly bigger than the baby that had ripped its way out of Otachi’s carcass.

            “They started spilling out of the Taiwan Breach in droves and following after Bedlam, sir,” the tech said. “Everywhere it goes, they follow. They’ve been…rooting out survivors.”

            Herc’s expression twitched, but hie contained the stream of curses that wanted to escape.

            “Bedlam?” he asked after a moment, voice only slightly strained. The tech nodded and set the video back to live broadcast. The giant kaiju was still wandering through Keelung’s streets; its heavy head swung like a pendulum from side to side with every step, smashing into the close-sitting buildings and leaving swathes of rubble in its wake.

            “The Hong Kong ‘dome codenamed it,” the tech said with a shrug. “Kind of fits, doesn’t it?”

            Herc gave a noncommittal sound, watching the small kaiju scaling the ruins and skittering after Bedlam. Through the static-snowed audio and Bedlam’s guttural roaring he could hear them chittering back and forth to one another, their voices pitched and cackling. Bedlam ignored them, stepping on a few when they tried to run around its legs. Herc felt a small, vindictive pleasure as several of them squealed as they were crushed, but for every one that died three others took their place.

            “What about the one in Iceland, what’s it doing?”

            “It’s still just walking,” the tech said, looking briefly at another terminal. “It passed by several villages without incident and it’s not headed towards major population centers. Doesn’t seem aware of where it’s going at all.”

            “Maybe it’s stupid,” Herc said dully. The tech gave a laugh that was more on par with an awkward clearing of the throat, and Herc stepped back.

            “Small mercy nothing’s come out from Nigeria yet, I suppose. Keep monitoring them,” he said.

            “Oh, uh…yes, sir.”

            Chrome’s spotters were still broadcasting on the main screen. The fight with the massive category four had hit a lull; neither kaiju nor Jaeger could seem to gain any ground on the other. It had fallen back and was circling Chrome like a wolf.

            “Shit, the little ones are _here_ too?” Herc asked, squinting down at a roving pack that was harassing Chrome and trying to scale its legs.

            “Yes sir,” another tech said, looking up from her console. “A few of them managed to break past military lines and draw support away from Chrome. They were put down but more keep coming.”

            “The big one’s just a distraction,” Herc muttered, watching the massive kaiju with narrowed eyes. “Keep Chrome busy and deploy the masses for quick invasion…”

            He glanced at the diagnostic readout of Chrome’s systems. The plasma cannon’s clip was now at half capacity even with sparing use; the Jaeger was relying more and more on brute force alone to get through combat. Mako and Raleigh’s drivesuit sensors were monitoring the stress on them closely and it was growing apparent the fight was wearing them down by inches.

Looking at the kaiju, Herc couldn’t blame them for starting to flag. It was a massive, heavily muscled and armored brute. Its face was covered in thick bony plating that gave it a death’s-head appearance, and virulent green eyes blinked out from deeply sunken sockets. From the base of its skull all the way down to its tail two rows of irregular spikes lined its spine; Chrome had managed to rip one of them off and was wielding it like a cudgel to ward off the swarming small kaiju.

“Any word from Pitcairn?”

“No, sir.”

            Herc growled a curse under his breath.

            “I am going to _skin_ him…where is Doctor Gottlieb?”

            “Not sure, sir. Paged him like you asked but that was almost fifteen minutes ago, he said he was on his way up.”

            “Page him again. Announce it over the goddamned PA system if you have to, I want Gottlieb in LOCCENT _now.”_

Herc turned away abruptly and immediately walked into a nervous gaggle of techs trying to get past him to their workstations. They scattered as he glared at them, clearing a path that he pushed through. He didn’t have a clear idea where he was going – each screen was a window into some new facet of the growing disaster, and it was too much to take in at once. It didn’t feel like war was being waged; it was a wave of destruction that was growing stronger by the minute, gaining ground as resistance broke around it.

            It was like a cold hand gripping his heart, that simple realization. Herc paused in front of a screen detailing the growing losses in Keelung and studied the estimates of property damage and civilian fatalities without really taking them in.

It wasn’t war. It was erasure.

“Raise Pitcairn again,” he barked, startling several people around him. “Tell them if Newton Geiszler isn’t on the line in the next five minutes-”

“Doctor _Geiszler_ is doing something incredibly stupid at the moment, Marshall.”

Herc turned, scowling and ready to tear into the woman who had interrupted in. His face fell almost comically, looking from her to Gottlieb as he leaned on her with an arm thrown over her shoulders, trying to keep upright. Gottlieb raised his head and tried to speak but nothing came out, the thin line of blood oozing from his nose dripping down across his lips. The woman lost her grip on him for a moment and he pitched forward, and a nearby tech dove to catch him.

Liang straightened, relieved to be free of the burden of Gottlieb’s struggling weight. Herc was still staring at her and she did not flinch away from the gathering fury in his expression.

“ _You_ ,” he said. Liang held her ground as he stalked towards her, his hands balling up into fists. “You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me.”

“This will be the second time I’ve mopped him up, you know,” Liang said evenly. “It’s almost becoming a habit.”

“What have you done?” Herc asked. Liang shook her head.

“Nothing.”

“Marshall,” Gottlieb croaked, trying to sit up in the chair he’d been pushed into. “Marshall, she-”

            His voice cut out with a strangled sound and he almost pitched forward out of the chair, barely catching himself in time. Liang turned towards him but Herc caught her arm and dragged her back. She wrenched loose, expression shuttered as Herc stared her down.

            “What,” he repeated, “have you _done?”_

            “ _Nothing,_ ” Liang said fiercely. The room had gone very quiet around them, even the sounds from the computers seeming muffled and muted. “I have done _nothing.”_

“I find that incredibly hard to believe,” Herc said. “And I sure as hell don’t have the time to get answers out of you.”

            He gestured sharply at a nearby tech.

            “Call security up here to get rid of her, keep her in the brig until we have a moment to deal with this properly.”

            “We…we don’t have a brig, sir, we-”

            “Then tell them to find a _broom closet_ to throw her in!” Herc shouted. The tech jolted and scrabbled at his console at once to pull up a vidcall screen, and Herc turned back to Liang. She stood rooted to the spot.

            “I have done nothing,” she repeated. Gottlieb coughed and struggled to sit up again, sopping uselessly at his face with his sleeve. “I didn’t do this to him.”

            “Marshall,” he said again, struggling to speak. “She’s…she’s right, _Newton’s_ done something…he’s Drifted again.”

            “What do you mean?” Herc asked, taking in the sight of Gottlieb’s bloody face. “What the hell could he even be trying to do?”

            “I don’t know,” Gottlieb said. “I don’t…he wouldn’t do it unless he…unless he truly thought it _necessary_ , sir.”

            He scrubbed viciously at his face in a sudden burst of anger, trying to clean the mess off. Liang gave Herc a wary look and went to Gottlieb, swatting his hand away and digging uninvited through his coat pockets.

            “Miss Liang, what are you-”

            “That kerchief in your pocket, I’ve seen you with it at _least_ twenty times. Don’t tell me you don’t have it with you now…”

            Herc watched Liang in baffled anger, shaking his head.

            “So you’ve been spying this entire time?” he asked. “How long have you _been_ here?”

            “I arrived with you,” Liang said abruptly, pulling Gottlieb’s handkerchief and several broken stubs of chalk out of an inner jacket pocket. “Doctor Gottlieb, for Christ’s _sake_.”

            “I like to make sure I always have some if I need it,” Gottlieb said defensively, taking the handkerchief and pressing it against his nose. Liang gave him a disgusted look.

            “Alright, enough. Get away from him.”

            “I’m not going to-”

            Herc seized Liang by the arm again and pulled her away abruptly.

            “I could have killed that Jaeger a hundred different ways, but I didn’t,” she said in a low voice, yanking herself free. “I could have done a lot of things but I _didn’t_. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

            “No,” Herc growled. “You want congratulations for not _sabotaging_ us? Way I see it, you either grew a sliver of conscience or lost your nerve. Neither one commends you.”

            Liang stared hard at him for a moment and then her gaze dropped to the floor. Herc gave the slightest sardonic laugh, staring at her as though daring her to argue.

            “Well, this is certainly dramatic,” Gottlieb said, sounding congested as he pinched his nose shut against the bleeding. Herc slowly turned and gave him an incredibly icy look.

            “Would you like to repeat that and make the apocalypse just a _little_ more trying for me, Doctor Gottlieb?”

            “Ah…no. No, sir.”

            Herc glanced at Liang again, making a dismissing gesture.

            “Find a corner to skulk in, super spy. When-”

            A shrill, ear-piercing shriek from the main video transmission cut Herc off. Chrome’s video had gone choppy and static-wreathed, the sound distorted by the sheer terrible volume. The technician at the main screen was working frantically to restore picture and sound with little success.

            “What the hell was that?”

            “I don’t know, sir. One minute Chrome was engaging those smaller kaiju and the next-”

            Herc pushed past the tech and seized the microphone, gritting his teeth as the shrieking came again.

            “LOCCENT to Rangers Becket or Mori, report! What is your status?”

            The Jaeger’s radio was nothing but a hiss of static. Herc hailed them twice more and was met with silence. The third hailing went to the general open channel and was answered by one of the spotters, the pilot shouting over the piercing screams and deafening whirr of the helicopter itself.  
            “ _LOCCENT in the blind, this is Chrome Brutus spotter Alpha, mayday, mayday, Beta has been lost and additional back-up is needed! Does anyone read?”_

“We read you! What the hell’s happened, Alpha? We’ve lost visual on you!”

            The shrieking came again. Liang had clapped her hands to her ears and Gottlieb was wincing as though the sound pained him, pushing as far away from the console as he could. Herc clutched the microphone in a white knuckled grip, jumping when the spotter hailed again.

            “ _LOCCENT in the blind, we repeat, this is Chrome Brutus spotter Alpha. Chrome has been engaged by a second category four! Spotter Beta is down, repeat, spotter Beta is down. Does anyone read? Military support has withdrawn to engage smaller bogeys, we request immediate back-up!”_

“We read you, Alpha. What is Chrome’s status?” Herc said. LOCCENT had gone deadly silent, every person in the room flinching as the shrieks came again and again. On the main screen the video feed flickered briefly back to life, broadcasting Alpha’s transmission – the hound-like kaiju was circling Chrome, and a massive new kaiju was laying into the Jaeger mercilessly.

            “Where the hell did it come from? Who’s monitoring Breach activity, how’d this get past us?”  
            “The smaller units must have masked its arrival, sir, they’ve been pouring out in such a consistent stream-”

            “IT’S A _CATEGORY FOUR!”_ Herc roared. The tech at the main console flattened himself against his chair, eyes wide as Herc stared at him in apoplectic anger. “ _HOW THE HELL DID WE NOT SEE IT?”_

            The spotter’s video feed screen suddenly split back to Chrome’s point of view. Herc recoiled reflexively; the camera was eye-level with the kaiju, showing a close-up of its face in terrible detail. There was time enough to watch it swing one heavy arm back and suddenly the screen went black.

 

\--

 

            The Conn-Pod shuddered with the terrible impact as the kaiju smashed its fists into it again and again. Mako raised the plasma cannon and fired one shot, then another – the kaiju gave an ear-shattering scream and fell back, shaking its head and pawing at the seared flesh of its face. Chrome Brutus fell back a few steps and something crunched underfoot; the broken remains of a helicopter, one of their spotters. Raleigh’s face translated the sick feeling in Mako’s chest perfectly.  
  
            _Where the hell did it even come from?_

_I don’t know…how could something like that sneak up unnoticed?_

The cracks in the Conn-Pod’s visor had grown worse, the web of zig-zagging lines spreading across the reinforced glass. The kaiju skulked just out of reach and its head weaved to and fro as it watched the Jaeger. Its body was strangely proportioned, almost humanoid. It walked heavily on its knuckles and two pairs of smaller arms sprouted from its broad chest, the fingers clicking and twitching in incessant nervous motion. Its tail dragged in the dirt; the bulbous tip twisted open and closed to reveal a hidden sharp spike of black bone.

 

            _Where the hell is its mouth? How can it scream like that without a mouth?_

The kaiju’s oblong head swung heavily, the web of cabling tendons that sprouted from its jawline and rooted into its shoulders and chest stretching almost to the point of snapping. Its face was smooth and featureless except for a thick, bioluminescent scar that ran vertically from its chin and over its forehead. The creature was a true walking nightmare, unnatural and misshapen. The first category four was still circling, snapping its teeth hungrily. The flocks of smaller kaiju were still milling about the Jaeger’s feet, their shrill voices drowned out by the new creature’s shrieking.

            Raleigh’s fingers curled tightly in the control ring and Chrome’s hand responded in kind, adjusting his grip on the spike he had broken off the first kaiju’s back. The new kaiju gave a layered growl, its voice pitching into different volumes as though several creatures were all snarling at once. It hung back a moment more and then suddenly lunged forward, all four smaller arms reaching out with twitching fingers.

The Jaeger ran forward to meet it head-on, angling the spike like a spear and driving it home through the kaiju’s chest. It pushed forward until the spike had impaled it fully and exited straight out the other side, seemingly indifferent to the injury. It twisted its body and wrenched the spike free of Chrome’s hands.

 

            _Cannon, use the cannon-_

_We’re running low on ammo I can’t we can’t we need to conserve-_

The kaiju’s wheeled around and slammed its tail into Chrome, the spike of bone jabbing into a vulnerable unarmored joint with unnerving precision on the Jaeger’s left side. A surge of electricity crawled over Mako and she gave a snarl of pain, teeth gritting and body stiffening as the shock briefly immobilized her. Raleigh shuddered as ghosts of pain washed over him through the Drift.

 

            _CANNON!_

            Mako raised her arm again and fired. The first shot clipped the kaiju’s shoulder and the second missed entirely as it ducked away out of range, its ungainly body low to the ground. The swarms of tiny kaiju were harassing it just as they were Chrome, mindlessly intent on attacking anything that moved. Several jumped onto its face and clawed into it, sharp muzzles and snapping teeth seeking to gouge at its eyes. It gave a screech and shook its head, trying to dislodge them.

Raleigh took advantage of its distraction and swung his arm back, hand curled into a tight fist. The crunch of bone and meaty thud of metal against flesh was incredibly satisfying as he struck it, and the creature’s head swung back sharply. Several of its connecting tendons snapped from the force and it screamed again as it fell to the ground.

           

_You okay?_

Mako managed to give Raleigh a rather irritated look, and he grinned briefly.

           

            _Ask a stupid question…_

The kaiju was pushing itself slowly up out of the dirt, a pair of its small arms sweeping over its battered face as though checking for damage. It growled, poisonous blue eyes glaring at them unblinkingly.

_The other kaiju - where is the other kaiju?_

Chrome’s external cameras had been knocked offline, leaving them blind except for what they could see through the visor. Mako and Raleigh dared to turn their head for a moment to try and find the hound-like kaiju and immediately paid for it, the second creature using their distraction to swing its barbed tail at them again and driving the massive spike through Chrome’s shoulder. It was Raleigh’s turn to scream, his body wrenching forward as the kaiju twisted and dug the spike through the Jaeger. Mako swung her arm forward and pressed the muzzle of the cannon against the kaiju’s head, firing point-blank into its face. It staggered and ripped free of Chrome, falling dazed into the dirt.

 

            _Raleigh-!_

_Fine I’m fine move other kaiju’s still around MOVE_

The battered kaiju was already on its feet again, its head hanging. Its chest heaved as it took in a deep breath, and it suddenly its head swung back. It fell silent and its face undulated, the glowing stripe pulling apart into slimy, thick strands. Mako and Raleigh watched in revulsion as the kaiju’s head split and peeled apart.

 

            _It does have a mouth…_

The kaiju’s hollow head was lined with row after row of teeth, ringing its convulsively gulping throat. The tentacle-like appendages that had held its head together bristled and writhed like worms. Shaking itself off and taking a massive breath, the kaiju began to shriek again. It was even clearer now, ringing through the desert and echoing with agonizing volume in the Conn-Pod.  Chrome braced itself as the kaiju lunged at it again, Mako and Raleigh thrown back hard as it crashed into the Jaeger.

            The mouth was tongueless but the writhing tentacles made up for its absence, prehensile and gripping with startling strength as the kaiju began biting, row upon row of teeth skidding against Chrome’s hull. The Jaeger’s fists pummeled every inch of the creature it could reach, bones and armor cracking under the assault. A vicious uppercut staggered the kaiju and it fell back briefly. Mako leveled the cannon with its gaping head, thinking to fire directly into that horrifying mouth – and from behind them, something gave a deep, baying howl.

            The first kaiju pounced on Chrome’s back and made the Jaeger pitch forward straight into the second, pinned between the two. Raleigh and Mako screamed in rage and pain as it began tearing through the Jaeger’s back as though trying to sever its spine, claws digging into it and rending it apart. The shrieking kaiju leaned its head forward with deliberate, terrible slowness. The newly-made jaws clamped down on the Conn-Pod, teeth crunching through metal and glass. It was utterly dark for a long moment, and then the kaiju’s throat dilated and opened fully – cold blue light shone up from deep inside it, a glowing, fang-lined pit. Mako and Raleigh struggled but the Jaeger was being torn apart by the kaiju-hound, limbs turning leaden and unresponsive.

            The kaiju gave a long, piercing scream, jaws squeezing down on the Conn-Pod. The visor gave a creaking groan like shifting ice and suddenly shattered, glass showering into the kaiju’s waiting throat. The kaiju-hound ripped something free from the base of the Conn-Pod’s neck and suddenly the struggling lights blinked off entirely and the Pons connection deactivated. The sudden break in their Drift connection left Mako and Raleigh briefly stunned, heads spinning and bodies trying to cope with the dizzying shock.

The Conn-Pod was filled with stark blue light as the kaiju’s throat dilated again, undulating as it worked to rip the Pod free. Mako and Raleigh looked to each other for the briefest moment as the Pod rocked and groaned under the assault. It was impossible to hear over the shrieks, but they could see each other clear as day.

            They watched each other, unwilling to look at the pit waiting to swallow them, and mouthed “ _goodbye”._


	35. Chapter 35

 

 

35.

            The pressure was crushing. Newt had been driven to his hands and knees as the sheer suffocating force roared over him, blinded and deafened in its wake. There was nothing to hold onto but the pain of it, memory and perception failing almost completely. He wanted to scream again but his body was seized up and rigid, his jaw clenched immovably shut. He wished with all his heart that the pain would ease or that it would kill him –anything, so long as it stopped.

_nonononono wrongwrong pain wrong sho uld not hurt geiszlerhuman_

_failedfailed di d not mean !_

The pressure almost recoiled away from him. Newt collapsed onto his side and gasped for air, drenched in sweat and aching. His body relaxed slowly and he could raise his head after a moment, squinting. Meathead was crouched in front of him and clicked its teeth when it caught his eye. It nudged his shoulder with the very tip of a claw.

 

_Did not mea n did no t mean geiszlerhumanself forgi ve hurthurthurt  se lf is h urt?_

Newt reached up and put a hand on Meathead’s muzzle, trying weakly to reassure it.

“Am I oozing brain tissue?”

 

_n o ?_

“Then I’m fine. Help me up.”

Meathead lifted its claw and Newt rose with it, dangling in the air for a moment before the kaiju set him down on his feet. His knees buckled and he leaned against Meathead for support, catching his breath. He swiped his hand under his nose to check for blood just in case and it came away clean.

“Huh. That’s a nice change.”

Meathead gave a clicking growl and drew its claws away, leaving Newt to stand on his own; he swayed but kept his balance. The world was dark and cold around them but the sky burned lividly with a dense field of ember-like stars. Newt squinted upwards, having to shield his eyes.

“Don’t remember it being so bright before.”

Meathead shifted slowly to Scissure. Its rabbit-like ears flicked against the sides of its head and its jaw chattered, nervous energy making it twitchy.

                        _w   e go we go   we go  now?_

“Yeah, yeah. We’re going. This is your show now, you know. I don’t know which way to go.”

Scissure’s teeth gnashed together rapidly and it began to walk. Newt trailed after it, hands in his pockets and slouching as he followed; the hybridized city had risen around them again but it was predominantly of Precursor construction now. The hivemind’s thoughts were bent on the Anteverse.

“Can I ask you something?”

            Scissure phased midstep into Karloff and it looked down at him expectantly. Newt kicked a bit of loose pavement out of the way and it clattered down the crooked road, colliding with a hollow sound against a chitinous metal pillar.

            “Why _do_ you want to go back so badly? I mean…Jesus, look what they made you do. What they made you walk into. I’d be trying to get the hell out of Dodge and never look back.”

            Karloff gave a sinuous shrug that started from its bony shoulders all the way down to its tail, almost flippant.

 

            _Home  is home  home is source quietquiet began in home all of us b egan in hom e_

“Didn’t think you’d be much for wanting a quiet place. You guys are constantly screaming about how much you hate silence.”

            Karloff’s jaw opened widely, its tongue curling against its teeth and threads of spit slicking down its chin. Newt studied it in bemusement.

            “What? What’s funny?”

 

            _s ilence is  absence darkdyingdead lon eliness silence  is   to be fea red quiet is  d ifferent_

_self d oes not know sil ence  bu t_

_self knew  q uiet   before       us_

            “Did I?” Newt asked, mostly to himself. “I don’t think I ever did. I don’t like the quiet. I always have to move…feel like I’m doing something. Make noise. Hermann’s the one that needs quiet. Once he gets going on something it’s like the world’s tuned out completely.”

            He sighed and then grinned a little halfheartedly.

            “Makes it fun to startle him back into the real world when he’s zoned out like that. I used an air horn a couple times.”

            He glanced up at Karloff but it was Kaiceph that looked back, its heavy horns dragging its head down towards the ground.

            “Why do you do that? The kaleidoscope thing.”

 

            _to no t feel    alone   to f eel part of the hive   again   separate  yet the sa me_

Kaiceph nudged at Newt with a talon that could have torn metal to shreds, nearly knocking him over.

           

_Why does geiszlerhuman  stay th e same  ?_

“Because usually I don’t mind being alone.”

            The kaiju shuddered as though Newt had said something filthy, its lips pulling back from its teeth. Newt shrugged.

            “It’s not so hard if you’re something like me. We’re born individual. It’d…shit. It’d probably be an easier world to live in if we were like you guys, not gonna lie. Nothing hidden, everything out in the open...always understood. I can see why you miss it.”

            Kaiceph shook itself into Trespasser; the broad axe-shaped horn tangled in a dense web of power lines that hung over the road and up into the buildings miles high. It was briefly stuck, then jerked its head to one side with an annoyed snort and ripped the whole mess down. The laugh startled out of Newt echoed down the empty streets and Trespasser gave him a sullen look as it pulled the cables free.

            “Sorry, sorry. I won’t tell anybody, don’t worry.”

            Trespasser growled without malice deep in its throat, a chest-vibrating bass that Newt could feel to the bones. He reached out absently and rested a hand against its forearm, feeling almost comically small next to it. Trespasser shook off the remaining web of cables where they had tangled on the bony plate of armor on its back, almost seeming to be scrabbling for dignity.

 

            _W   e  miss we miss yesyesyes hive is the true h ome we are not meant fo r this silent pl ace_

_how does geiszlerhuman b ear it h ow will geiszlerhuman bear  it witho ut   us   ?_

            “Don’t be offended if I say I’ll be fine,” Newt said dryly. “If I survive, anyway.”

            The kaiju’s steps hesitated and Newt knew he’d touched on a sore spot. He looked up at it, only slightly unnerved at having two enormous sets of eyes staring unblinkingly back.

            “And it’s a _big_ if, isn’t it?”

            Trespasser growled again and looked away.

 

              _we do  not    know_

                                    _we  do not wan t to hurt geiszlerhumanself  drifthivebond  t he hive does not harm itse lf h arming self is harming   hive_

“You’ve hurt me before.”

            The kaiju gave a throaty snarl, its head weaving to and fro and its body briefly losing shape entirely, coalescing into Hundun after a moment.

           

            _self gave d irective   we see k to follow it we seek to go  h ome geiszlerhumanself is t he way home   directive follow directive sel f told us   to st op them  we will stop th em as self    s aid_

“Don’t get defensive. I know what I asked of you.” Newt sighed and took his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes and feeling a hundred years old. “I just wanted to know my odds for walking away from this. If you don’t know…okay. I get it. You don’t know.”

            He put his glasses back on and straightened them, head held up in stiff resolve to counter the hollow feeling growing in his chest.

            “Probably should’ve said goodbye.”

            Hundun lowered its head to him and Newt rested a hand against it, tracing the pattern of its scales. His vision turned briefly blurry and Newt blinked hard, rubbing at his eyes again. Hundun changed to Hardship as it pulled away and watched him uncertainly; Newt managed to smile for bravado’s sake and swept a hand out towards the street.

            “I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

            The buildings, already only thin mockeries of human construction, soon turned entirely to Precursor architecture. The towering structures reminded Newt of termite mounds - if the termites had been almost obsessively focused on fractal-like symmetry in their construction. Spinal column-like supporting cables branched from one fractal tower to the next, creating a dense forest.

The wind gusted through, whistling through chitin and setting cables to swaying. Newt looked down at the ground, feeling caged in. Hardship had slipped into Meathead once more and it seemed comfortable, its tail swinging broadly from side to side with each lurching step. They walked deep into the empty city and Newt found himself sticking very close beside the kaiju, one hand reaching out from time to time to brush against it as though needing the reassurance of something solid to hold onto.

“Where are we going?”

 

 

 

            _the   w all_

“Wall? What, like the walls we built?” Newt asked. “Because if that’s the case this’ll be easier than I thought. You can just knock through that shit without even trying.”

Meathead made a low sound, clicking its teeth almost thoughtfully.

 

_a  wall a fe nce a  cage   we cann ot pass alone self can find the way openopenopen_

“And then what? How did you even use me the first time?”

The kaiju huffed out a sigh, running its tongue over its teeth. Newt looked up at it expectantly.

“Hey. Trust between Drift partners, remember?”

Meathead stared narrowly at him. Newt had seen Gottlieb look at him like that more than once when he was being annoying, and another laugh escaped him.

“Don’t give me that look. I just want to know what to do. This is…this is the only chance we’ve got. Only one try to get it right.”

 

            _self  knows o ur hive knows the sound the call drifthivebond hivehive drift h ive calls always calls s hells waiting for hive one connects a ll move we will fill si lence_

_sel f will di rect  us_

“I _love_ how clear and on-point you always are about things. I ever mention that?”

Meathead clicked its teeth again and Newt grinned tiredly, walking beside it slowly. The towers loomed and soon the sky with its swathes of burning stars and twisting curtains and veils of gas was completely blocked out, leaving them in a strange grey half-light. The world went silent and cold around them and Newt crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm.

“It’s like tuning into a radio,” he said eventually. “I’m on the right frequency because of what I did with the Drift. You’re outdated, and I tapped into the upgraded hive’s signal…”

He looked up at Meathead expectantly.

“I’m not a bridge, I’m a radio tower. You’re gonna broadcast yourself through me.”

The kaiju said nothing, merely growling deep in its throat again. Newt chafed his hands against his arms as the world grew a little colder. The grey light was fading now, leaving them to stumble blindly deeper and deeper into the dark. There was a sense of emptiness and perfect stillness – not a world that was left isolated and undisturbed, but of a vast, yawning _absence_ that pressed down around them. Newt found himself growing anxious, humming under his breath to force the sensation away. The sound of it fell flat and the anxiety began to worsen.

“I…I don’t want to be here. Let’s turn around.”

 

            _c ann ot turn  cannot le ave followfollowfollow_

“Where are we?”

Meathead’s jaw worked, its teeth clenched and lips pulling back in a snarl.

 

 

            _s i len ce_

Newt was starting to shake, his chest tightening and mouth going dry. The kaiju wasn’t faring much better; its eyes widened painfully and a clicking growl seethed from it, the sound weak.

“This isn’t silence. Silence is…is…Jesus, what _is_ this?”

He stopped walking, hugging his arms around himself and starting to struggle for breath. It was like being slowly smothered to death. His vision was dulling, his hearing muffled. He fell back a step, shaking his head.  
            “No. No. I can’t. I can’t do this. I don’t want to be here.”

Meathead swung its head towards him, staring at him unblinkingly.

 

_w  e  cannot   end ure silence   alone_

_se lf                m ust                                       walk_

Newt shook his head again.

“Don’t make me do this. I’m not…I can’t. I’m not brave enough for this. Please. I’ll figure out some other way, some way to-”

His throat constricted in panic and his voice cut off, his mouth still moving soundlessly. Meathead lowered its head to him; Newt drew in as deep a breath as he could and pressed his hands against its muzzle, palms burning from the feverish heat of its skin.

“I’m scared.”

 

_self can en  dure_

_and                  w alk_

 

Newt shuddered, closing his eyes and nodding hard. Meathead drew away and they began to walk again, picking a careful path through the dark. The light was completely gone and sound faded completely. Newt could still see the kaiju beside him; he looked over at every few seconds to convince himself he hadn’t gone blind, that the silence had not swallowed him. No wonder the hivemind was terrified of it. It was nonexistence, pure and absolute.

They walked. Newt had reached out and laid a hand against the sweeping curve of Meathead’s horn as its head hung low to the ground to anchor himself to something real. The kaiju was shivering, its steps sluggish and its chest heaving as it tried to keep itself under control. Newt tried to say something to it but his voice was simply _gone –_ the words eaten by the silence, leaving him mute.

What would Gottlieb think of this whole mess? Newt smiled thinly to himself, his eyes burning at the thought. What would Gottlieb think of any of it? _Fantastical, utter nonsense. Even for something related to kaiju this stretches the imagination…honestly, Newton, the rubbish you come out with sometimes._

Newt laughed soundlessly, his vision going blurry. He rubbed at his eyes uselessly and swallowed hard against the knot in his throat that threatened to choke him.

_Why didn’t I say goodbye…_

There was a thin stripe of red on the horizon. Newt blinked at it, his silence-dulled mind trying to process what he was looking at. Color….light. Substance. He rubbed at his eyes again and blinked hard but the stripe didn’t fade. It stretched from one horizon to the other in an unbroken line, fading out of sight into the silence’s depths. He looked up at Meathead and pointed to it.

 _The wall,_ he mouthed. _Is that the wall?_

Meathead clicked its teeth soundlessly, its head jerking towards the stripe. It began to trot and Newt had to run to keep up, wondering if he tripped if he would simply fall downwards into the silence, deep into the dark. He was soon out of breath and Meathead would slow down to wait for him impatiently, the red stripe stretching higher and higher into the void the closer they got.

Newt’s breath rasped in his throat and his lungs burned as he ran, but for a wild moment he wanted to laugh. He was racing with a kaiju. The laugh struggled deep inside and suddenly fought free of him, panting and half-crazy. He felt it before he heard it, and as the stark, fiery red light of the stripe hit him– no, the _wall,_ a massive slash through the silence as vivid as a wound – he could hear the sound of it. It rang loudly into the dark, its echoes quickly eaten. The wall loomed high above them when they finally stopped running.

            Newt dropped to his knees and bent over, trying to catch his breath. Meathead was somewhere above him growling and hissing to itself. Its legs braced on either side of him and he looked up at it, raising his hands up to press under its chin as it loomed over him. His fingers skidded against its scales as he gave it a scratch like he was petting an over-protective dog, the laugh still coming in desperate spurts.

            “I’m gonna fucking die, aren’t I?” he asked. “This is it. This is as far as I go.”

            Meathead stepped over him and circled ‘round, assiduously avoiding touching the wall. It watched him and Newt laughed so he wouldn’t break down completely, pushing himself up off the ground. He straightened his rucked t-shirt and adjusted his jeans, checking to see if his bootlaces were still tied. Everything seemed in order. He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up his nose and looking at the wall like it was an enemy waiting for him. It seemed out of focus, sometimes sharpening and turning glossy and hard as glass, sometimes fuzzy and mist-like.

            “Was it always here?”

 

                        _no nonononono b eyond the hive   was only sil ence   w hen doors op ened the call began a gain   b ut we   could not ans wer   w  e are  to o weak now too  li ttle of us   left_

“And here I am, alive and kicking,” Newt said. He approached the wall, one hand stretching towards it. He felt it buzz and breathe like a living thing, a soft haze of static over its surface that prickled his skin. He looked over at Meathead, waving it closer. It approached slowly, its muzzle nudging against his extended hand. Newt dug his fingers in against its scales, looking from it to the wall and back again.

            “Don’t let me let go of you, okay?” he said. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, his voice wavering. “It’s like grounding a current. I hold onto you, you go through me.”

            Meathead made a thin noise almost like a whine. Newt grinned at it, vision turning blurred again.

            “You stop them, you understand me? You go in and you wreck their shit until they don’t know which way is up. Send them to hell. Okay?”

 

                        _w  e will f ollow self’s directive we w i ll follow_

            “I know you will. I know. I _trust_ you.”

            Newt’s hand hovered just over the wall, watching it oscillate. He wondered what it really was. He wondered how it worked.

            He wondered what Gottlieb would say.

            “Goodbye,” Newt said, his voice dwindling. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

            He swallowed hard, took in one last breath so deep it hurt, and laid his hand flat against the wall. His body went rigid, head snapping back and pain like fire igniting every nerve. He shouldn’t have worried about letting go of the kaiju; his hands were fixed and immovable. He could hear a rushing sound from far away, like a wave crashing down over his head. The pain peaked and suddenly seemed removed from him, his brain desperate to shut it out. Newt could feel himself burning out into a husk and it didn’t trouble him; he was following his own directive, faithful to the last. Stop them. Whatever it takes, stop them.

            The pain was a suffocating cloud that crashed over him, trying to drag him under. Newt fought against it – no. No, he was going to stay awake for this, he was going to endure it and he was going to see it done-

            Something clawed at him. It pulled and grasped, trying catching him in an iron-hard grip. Newt’s eyes opened, blinded by the pain and the bitter red light, but still he searched for what was trying to hold onto him. The hivemind? No, no, not the hivemind; he couldn’t feel its presence. This was something new.

            It grabbed at him again; Newt realized it was a bodiless thing, not a hand or claws trying to rip into him but a _will,_ something unyielding and remote, something terrible. He fought against it, trying to keep his hold on the hivemind and the wall, crying out in wordless rage as the will caught him and dragged him irresistibly down. The pain vanished, and in the sudden shock of its absence Newt blacked out.

 

\--

 

            He could hear the sound of his own breathing before anything else. Newt lay on the ground on his side, hands curled against his chest and legs drawn up. He was insensible at first, memory returning in bits and pieces. He coughed and slowly rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself up on arms so weak he could barely support himself. He knelt, doubled over and panting for breath. There was a sound in his ears like a thin, layered squealing of static, tones pitching and chittering. There was a pressure surrounding him but it was not like the silence or the crushing weight of the hivemind – it hummed just outside his senses, waiting for him to provoke it, regarding him with detached interest.

            Newt slowly raised his head, squinting as he adjusted his glasses. A fractal wall loomed in front of him, light made into hard, sharp corners and endlessly shifting patterns.

            And locked in place, straining against ropes of light that pierced it and yoked it to that wall, something looked down at him. Newt stared at it, his breath leaving him in a small, terrified huff.

            _What,_ the Precursor asked, leaning down as far as its chains would allow, _are **you?**_


	36. Chapter 36

 

 

36. 

 

 

 

            Newt fell back and pushed himself away from the Precursor, wild panic overwhelming him. It was staring at him as though trying to pin him down with its eyes alone, its head cricking sharply to one side.

            _You flee. You flee, and there is nowhere to hide._

The layered, squealing static sharpened and Newt realized it was the Precursor’s voice; it felt like it was scratching in his head as though trying to burrow inside him. It nagged at the corners of his mind, the wash of noise taking on meaning as his brain struggled to understand it.

            “I’m not fleeing,” he said. His voice was barely above a croak and he coughed, spitting off to the side. The failed transference had almost burnt him alive – but had it failed, really? Newt looked around, hoping to see the hivemind lingering somewhere behind him; he could feel the icy presence of it but there was no physical sign of it, only the fractal walls spreading as far as the eye could see in every direction. Newt swallowed hard and looked back up at the Precursor.

            Its arms were folded over its chest, the membranes of its wings wrapped about its body like a cloak. Around and through it the hard ropes of light bound it to its section of the wall – it had almost been sewn into the structure.

            “I’m not fleeing,” Newt repeated. He pushed himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, watching the Precursor. Translucent armor slid back, baring a wet-looking face. Its eyes glowed with cold light, transparent eyelids sliding over them in occasional slow blinks. It opened its mouth and Newt caught sight of several rows of teeth that looked like they could shred flesh from bone.

            _No. Not fleeing. Invading. Slipping into spaces where you do not belong._

            Newt’s eyebrows shot up and a loud, incredulous laugh escaped before he could stop himself.

            “Holy shit. Do you have _any_ grasp on irony at all?”

            The Precursor’s mouth stretched open wider and it shrieked at him. Newt hissed in pain and clapped his hands to his ears as the sound washed over him, his hearing seeming to short out completely. The Precursor fell silent after a moment and Newt staggered back a few steps, hunching defensively.

            _What were you trying to do?_

            Newt shook his head, giving the Precursor a disgusted look.

            “I’m not telling you jack-shit, you son of a bitch. Scream all you want. I don’t care.”

            The Precursor’s arms unfolded from its chest and it strained against its bonds again, stepping forward heavily. Its cloven feet rapped sharply against the ground.

            _You do not impress me. Your bravery is thin. You shrink back like an animal._

It took another struggling step forward. Its bonds were stretched to breaking, its head being pulled back by the tether attached to the base of its skull. Newt looked over its shoulder into the empty space it had been nested in– lines of light speared through its spine and into its head, connected to the wall like roots.

            “What is this?” he asked, unable to curb himself. “What have you done to yourself?”

            The Precursor lifted its chin arrogantly and said nothing. Newt bit at his nails in thought, eyes wandering over the creature and the wall. It seemed infinite, stretching in every direction; the ground he stood on was a seamless part of the same pattern that stretched up and down, the dimension-breaking physics giving him a headache just trying to understand it. He knelt down and brushed his fingers against it. Tiny shocks of energy went through him, numbing his arm up to the elbow.

            _You scratch at the ground as though looking to dig for answers._

“Well you’re not being very forthcoming,” Newt muttered, shaking his arm out and trying to get feeling back into it. He looked up at the Precursor coldly. “But I do have a pretty good idea.”

            The Precursor’s inexpressive face betrayed nothing. Newt gestured with his numbed hand, fingers curled against his palm uselessly.

            “You’re connected to it. You’re feeding it information…that’s why you’re rooted into it. You’re a pilot _,_ aren’t you _._ This is your Pons…hooking you up to the kaiju.”

            He looked around, nodding as though impressed.

            “It’s not silence they’re following, it’s you. You and your friends behind the curtain, willing them to move.”

            The Precursor’s coin-round eyes widened a little further and it took the slightest step back from him. Newt grinned humorlessly.

            “Ahh. I _guessed it_ , didn’t I _._ Not bad for vermin, huh?”

            _Vermin can be clever. That does not change what they are._

            Newt’s grin grew and he shrugged.

            “So what do you want, huh? Why am I here? Either you’re waiting your turn for your kaiju to deploy or it’s already dead, so you’re…what? Killing time?”

            The Precursor couldn’t bear the strain on its body anymore, the ropes reeling it back into place in the wall. Its arms crossed over its body again and Newt was reminded of a dying insect folding in on itself.

            _Your actions were felt. Your capture was necessary. Your presence is not unfamiliar to us._

The grin faltered and faded away. Newt looked around uneasily but there were no other Precursors close by; if he squinted he thought he could see struggling movement around him, cordoned off by the walls. Other Precursor pilots engaged in fights, commanding their faraway kaiju. He looked up slowly at the Precursor.

            “You know me?”

            _You left yourself open. You were found because you shout your presence to anything with half a mind to seek you. Burrowed beneath the earth and hiding like an insect, still you were found. You are known._

“Otachi. You mean Otachi…”

            The Precursor made a noise Newt could only think of as _jagged,_ its voice sharp and crackling like breaking glass. With a slight shock he realized it was laughing and he shivered, wishing he could block the sound out.

            _O-ta-chi. What does it mean? Why name our slaves?_

“ _Sword_ ,” Newt said softly. “Y’know, the thing we used to cut it in half. The thing we used to split Raiju stem to stern. _Sword,_ you asshole. That’s what it fucking means.”

            The Precursor’s contemptuous good humor faded at once and it snapped its teeth at Newt, head weaving like a snake preparing to strike.

            _Such a small thing to yowl so loudly into the dark when it is frightened. You speak as though you should be feared._

            It leaned down, a hand curling away from its chest and jabbing a sharp finger at Newt almost in accusation.

            _You bleed like a slave._

Newt stared blankly at it, slowly putting a hand to his face. His fingertips touched gingerly under his nose and came away stained luminous blue. He swallowed hard again, wiping the blood off onto his shirt.

            “I’m not a slave.”

            _No. You are worse. You are one of the teeming mob, an animal. Slaves are low, but they come from my people. In that alone they are greater than you._

“Did you really make them?” Newt asked, his voice deadly quiet. “Or did you just subjugate them? Why use them at all? Why…why us? Why come here?”

            The Precursor leaned back again, its head tilted slightly to one side.

            _You are owed no explanations._

“Yes I am,” Newt said. The Precursor turned its face away from him and he followed its line of vision, forcing it to look at him. “Yes I _am!_ You and your friends have been trashing my planet for a fucking decade! You owe me _SOMETHING!”_

            _What does an insect need to know of the world’s greater parts? What point is there in telling you anything?_

            “Because genius always wants an audience,” Newt snapped. “C’mon. Here I am. Captive audience. Sing to me, you son of a bitch. Tell me _why._ Out of every goddamned planet in an endless universe you could have picked, _why?”_

The Precursors fingers drummed against its chest, talons skidding against the chitin. Newt endured it staring him down, his fists curled tightly and his jaw working, trying not to grind his teeth. At the back of his head the kaiju bond throbbed with icy pain, the hivemind whispering through him voicelessly and making him shiver – it was still nowhere in sight, but the presence of it was growing a little stronger. He closed his eyes and shook himself reflexively, trying to ward off the coldness.

            _We search for a place to match us._

Newt’s eyes flickered open and he looked up at the Precursor, baffled.

            “What?”

            The Precursor’s hands splayed out over its chest in an authoritative pose, its head tilting back.

            _We are apex. We were first. Our weaknesses have been cut away, our minds sharpened and our culture perfected by knowledge we have collected since before your world was more than slag and smoke._

It leaned forward again and Newt took a step back. It studied him and he finally felt pinned by its gaze. He realized it wanted to dissect him; to peel apart him apart, mind body and soul, layer by layer until nothing was left of him. Its fingers twitched in perpetual nervous motion, chitin clicking together. He could feel the sheer arrogant malice of it radiating like heat from a sun. It was an entity far above him, and it _knew_ it.

            _Our apex comes with a price. There is no world to match us. We search…we have searched a long time. In every world, a flaw. We search until we find a world that has no flaws to conflict with our apex. Our universe is full of flaws. We spread through other universes…places of new potential. Places that might hold no flaws._

Newt stared at it in horror, shaking his head.

            “Jesus. That’s your excuse… _that is your excuse?”_

His voice raised until he was screaming, enraged.

            “ _HOW DELUSIONAL ARE YOU?”_

The Precursor reared back, pressing itself into the wall as Newt lunged at it. He stopped short just outside its reach, his hands clawing into his legs to keep himself from striking it. Horror and fury boiled in him until he could barely breathe, tears streaking unheeded down his face.

            “You invaded us because you’re too _perfect?_ You spread like a disease and leave ruin in your wake and you think it isn’t your _fault?_ ”

A hysterical laugh clawed its way out of him and Newt threw his hands up, shaking his head incredulously.

            “You piece of narcissistic chitinous shit. I’m bacteria compared to you and I have more self-awareness.”

            The Precursor shrieked again but Newt barely flinched, baring his teeth at it in animalistic threat. It recoiled from him in disgust, its feet stomping sharply on the ground as though it wanted to crush him beneath its heel.

            _You think your world is unique in our plans? That you are the only one?_

            Spreading all four arms wide in a threat all its own, the Precursor made a deeply arrogant sound.

            _You are not the first. Others have fought. Others have succumbed. Your machines with their fission-fueled hearts hindered us. They did not stop us. And now we will take what we once claimed._

“If you wanted it so badly you should have left something behind to stake your claim,” Newt snarled. “It’s not _our fault_ that you let an entire civilization evolve on something you visited once and decided you wanted.”

            He took another step towards it, eyeing its claw-like hands with a trace of apprehension.

            “You don’t belong anywhere. You’re a disease. You send slaves to do your dirty work and you skulk in the background waiting for the fires to die down,” he hissed. “Apex? What fucking _apex?_ What are you that it excuses everything you’ve done?”

            _We were the first. From our beginnings we were great and we raised ourselves to be greater. We tower above the swarms and mobs of creatures like you that scrabble in the dust, lying in our shadow._

“That’s _really_ fucking poetic,” Newt said caustically. “So is there an actual explanation or are you just going to keep up with the chest-thumping?”

            _You are owed NOTHING!_

 _“BULLSHIT!_ I’m vermin to you, but I am pretty fucking _SMART_ vermin! I helped figure out how to slam the Breach shut in your faces. I Drifted with your war-dogs TWICE and helped send a giant fucking atom bomb right to your front door! _YOU WILL ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!”_

            The Precursor went perfectly still and silent, only the flicker of its glowing eyes and that perpetual twitching of its fingers giving it any semblance of life. Newt wiped savagely at his face where the nosebleed was still slowly flowing, the bright blood smearing across his hand. The kaiju bond gave a sharp throb and Newt bit his tongue against a pained sound though he couldn’t stop the wince.

 

            _w e   f ound    yo u_

Newt stiffened. The Precursor was still staring daggers down at him but it gave no indication it could hear the hivemind like he could. He schooled his expression to dead calm and let his mind brush against the bond. It vibrated like a plucked string in response, the cold radiating through his skull.

_I am in a metric shit-load of trouble. I could really, really use some help right now._

_W e come wecomewecome t he    passa ge weakened    b ut we come for self  t his is the w all we must break  we mu st  pass through self    again_

            _I’m okay with that. Just come find me, okay? Hurry._

Newt wiped at his nose again, the blood hot and sticky against his skin. The Precursor’s eyes narrowed and he returned the look unflinching.

            “Answer my questions,” he said, his voice grating. “What is it in you that raises you above everyone else? We’re not the first…why do you think that is? Why do you think other people resisted you?”

            The Precursor turned its head away, refusing to acknowledge Newt. He stood in front of it and for a moment felt very small; the alien was just a shade over twelve feet tall, its body all chitin and sinew. It seemed sculpted, groomed to an aesthetic of perfection.

            “What are you?” he asked it softly. Its eyes flicked down towards him. “You heard me. What are _you,_ the individual? What are you that’s so great you can play God?”

            _I am an ambassador. Our slaves are my emissaries. There is no other way to parley with those who are not on the level of our apex. They do not understand us._

“An ambassador,” Newt echoed. The kaiju bond had stopped throbbing, turning instead into a steady, icy ache. He grit his teeth and ignored it. “You’re doing a _real_ bang-up job. How many other people have you sent emissaries to, huh? How many other worlds did you force them to raze to the ground?”

            _Countless._

Revulsion twisted in Newt’s gut so severely he thought he might get sick. He shook his head again, eyes burning as he tried to force tears back.

            “We’re not the first to fight, you said. But how many others have gotten this _close?”_

The Precursor said nothing, all its eyes narrowing to slits. Newt grinned at it, pain making him grit his teeth together tightly.

            “Not so many, then. Maybe we’re closer to your level than you think.”

            His only answer was another jagged, squealing sound. Newt flinched at it as it seemed to stab through his head, leaving him breathless. He tried to shake it off but the pain in the bond seemed to exacerbate it, pain blending together until he was dizzy. He staggered to one side and caught himself, holding his head in one hand and wincing. He could almost feel the Precursor’s stare and he forced himself to look up at it.

            _You are such a small thing. How did something like you survive as long as you have?_

“Dumb luck, mostly.”

            The hivemind’s whispers grew clearer and clearer; Newt could feel the very edge of its presence as it approached, slinking through the maze of fractals and drawn to him like a beacon. Newt stood a little straighter, giving a cold smile.

            “It disgusts you to even talk to me, doesn’t it?” he asked. The Precursor gestured with one hand in dismissive agreement. “But I interest you. I can tell. And you want to know why I think that?”

            He walked slowly towards it again, trying to keep his steps from weaving. The Precursor looked down at him imperiously, its fingers drumming against its chest.

            “I think it’s because you know what I am,” he said. “You know me. You know what I did. What the kaiju have done to me. You know what I am to them now."

            The Precursor’s eyes flickered. Newt gave a slight nod, spreading his arms out as though presenting himself.

            _You bleed as they do. You stink as they do. Your mind is held together by the scars of them._

            “Yeah. And you know damn well what I was trying to do before you pulled me here,” Newt said. His voice had grown very soft, and despite itself the Precursor was leaning its head down to listen to him. “You talk up your perfection so much. But you know what?”

            The bond gave a fierce shudder as the hivemind emerged from the mesh of fractal patterns, the formless cloud of it shaping from Karloff to Hardship to Hundun, over and over in its limited scope of aspects until it settled on Meathead. The kaiju bared its teeth and slowly shook its head in undeniable threat. The Precursor did not recoil or cower; it simply stared, its arms hanging limply at its sides and its eyes stretching painfully wide. It looked from Meathead down to Newt again slowly. Newt rested one hand against its muzzle and stretched out with the other, fingers hovering just above the Precursor’s chest.

            “I think it galls you that you have to enslave them to do your will, but all I have to do is _ask,_ ” he said, hissing through clenched teeth. “I am going to offer you this once. Pull back. Take your toys and go home. Close your doors and wander away into the dark….find somewhere else to take you in. There's no place for you here.”

            There was a long, breathless moment of silence between them, human and alien staring at each other. The Precursor’s lips trembled as they skinned back from its teeth, rage and fear making it shake. It made a choked sound and before Newt could even think to dodge out of the way its arms snapped down and it seized at him, fingers lancing easily through flesh. Newt gave a sharp cry and rocked back against Meathead; the kaiju gave a deafening shriek that Newt echoed unthinking, slamming his hand down against the Precursor’s chest. There was no terrible ignition this time – the hivemind poured through him in a river, passing into the Precursor and beyond.

            The wall’s oscillations lost their fractal perfection, pulsing erratically as the Precursor screamed, the bonds glowing agonizingly bright. The hivemind roared in his mind and Newt began losing sense of himself, a passive bridge between kaiju and Precursor. He could feel it dying, its mind burning away – he felt its astonished fear, its rage. It meant nothing to him. Pieces of himself were being pulled in with the irresistible flow of the hive; he was breaking apart, everything that was _him_ joining the larger mind. The realization didn’t bother him much at all.

            The wall rippled, rings growing from the husk of the burnt-out Precursor and spreading through, colliding with other pilots. Newt could sense them as they were snuffed out – could sense a yawning chasm of silence waiting around the wall’s self-contained world, silence that the hivemind was already spilling out to fill.

            He realized quite lucidly that he was going right along with it. Two eyes had become a hundred, a hundred had become a thousand, watching and processing so much information he could hardly fathom it. The silence guttered and died as the hivemind grew, flowing through the captive pilots and out into the world, into waiting shells no longer being controlled like puppets. He was a ghost inside it, feeling the entirety of the hivemind – and it welcomed him.

            What was left of Newt reached out willingly, and let the hivemind take him.


	37. Chapter 37

 

37. 

 

 

            The Conn-Pod rocked violently as the kaiju began tearing it off Chrome Brutus’ body. Its breath flooded in like a noxious, ammonia-tainted fume and Mako gagged on the stench. Cables snapped and unraveled as the kaiju’s teeth and tendrils pried the Pod off the Jaeger, its throat gulping almost obscenely below them. There was a moment of terrible silence as the kaiju pulled and wrenched at the Pod, and suddenly it came free, pitching forward into the kaiju’s hollow head.

            Mako and Raleigh swung hard on their harness arms as the Pod rolled over, leaving them hanging sideways. Raleigh was shouting to her but she couldn’t hear him; the kaiju’s screams had left her briefly deafened, ears ringing. The Pod rolled again as the kaiju attempted to swallow. Teeth skidded against metal, shredding the Pod bit by bit as it made its inevitable way downwards. Mako’s harness arm was coming loose; she could feel it straining with every roll of the Pod, support cables stretched to breaking.

            It was the utter helplessness of it all that galled Mako; through her terror, she was _infuriated._ All the work she had put into Chrome, all the work she had put into Gipsy Danger...everything she had endured and worked through her entire life, boiled down to such an ignoble end. Eaten alive by a monster.

She gave a cry of pain and fury as the Pod slammed against another dense row of teeth, her head snapping forward and the harness jerking cruelly on her already battered body.  Her feet had ripped loose of the walker platforms and she hung in the air, only the harness’s prongs locked into her drive suit keeping her from falling through the broken visor and into the waiting throat beyond.

The kaiju shook its head as though trying to rattle them loose of its teeth. The harsh blue glow dimmed and brightened with every convulsive swallow- the pit slamming shut and leaving them in total darkness, and then dilating, emitting light and the stench of its breath. Its shrieks rose and fell cyclically and Mako screamed out her rage in response, her voice lost under the cacophony.

Beside her, Raleigh was fighting to keep himself hooked into his harness; all but two of the securing prongs had snapped off. One more roll or shake of the kaiju’s head would tear him loose and send him flying. He reached up and grabbed for a thick cabling of wires hanging from the ruined Pod’s ceiling, seeking something to hold onto and tie himself down with.

The Pod jolted forward and Raleigh grasped desperately, another prong giving way with a sharp snap – the cable swung towards him and he grabbed on with both hands, giving an infuriated shout as the entire cable suddenly wrenched free and fell around him in useless loose coils. The Pod jolted again and the kaiju’s throat suddenly constricted shut, its screams stuttering into an oddly strangled whine; there was a long moment of absolute stillness, and then suddenly the kaiju’s head swung backwards as though it had been struck.

            The pod went flying, smashing against the back of the kaiju’s mouth and bouncing roughly down towards the closed-off gullet. There was a sound of muffled impact outside the kaiju’s closed-off skull; something hammering against its head and body, ripping into it. Mako and Raleigh could do nothing but brace as the Pod suddenly rolled back, tilted upwards.

The kaiju’s jaws were opening again and swathes of sky and sunlight were visible through writhing tendrils and gnashing teeth. Mako stared upwards and could see tiny black specks of birds circling overhead. Her hearing was slowly recovering, the ringing din easing away; Raleigh was trying to shout to her again and she looked over. He had looped the cable around himself and the harness arm, trying to secure himself before the last prong gave way. He was mouthing something to her – she squinted in the murky blue half-light, trying to understand.

_Other kaiju._

She shook her head, uncomprehending. The kaiju’s head rocked back again and its entire body shook, thrashing left and right with horrible force. Raleigh’s harness arm swung like a pendulum to one side and he slammed against the far wall, giving a shout of pain as he collided with a support beam. The cable kept him tied down to the harness but it was already starting to unravel. Mako leaned towards him as far as she could reach, arm straining as she struggled to grab hold of him.

Something outside gave a throaty, baying howl. The kaiju screamed in response but the sound was choked. The howl came again and the kaiju’s head snapped sharply to the left, the muffled sound of a hard impact echoing in its skull. The Pod was tossed over to the side, teeth jamming straight through the metal and into the cockpit; Raleigh recoiled back as an enormous tooth speared through the Pod, nearly running him through.

The kaiju swayed and gave an awful gurgling sound, and suddenly there was a terrifying sensation of falling forward. Mako and Raleigh braced as the kaiju’s head swung downwards; the collision with the ground knocked the Pod loose one last time, slamming hard against flesh and teeth. It rolled and the pilots were thrown like ragdolls inside it. Mako’s last sight before her harness arm ripped free of the Pod’s ceiling was Raleigh’s securing cable coming loose, his body thrown against the instrument console and crumpling. She smashed against the floor hard, pinned by the heavy arm, and saw nothing more.

 

\--

 

            “What is it doing?”

            Herc’s question went unanswered. The remaining spotter chopper’s cameras had been broadcasting a static-snowed, unfocused video feed, hovering overhead as Chrome was ripped apart by the shrieking kaiju and its hound-like cohort. LOCCENT had gone deadly silent as the video jumped and shivered on the screen. Chrome’s merciless destruction had made him sick; the shrieker had beheaded it, pulling the Pod off and snapping it up like an animal gulping down prey.

The hound had raked its claws and teeth against Chrome’s back until it was shredded apart, littering the ground with its ruins. Herc had despised himself for hoping the hound would claw in too deep and breach the core; better for both the bastards to be blown to hell in a nuclear explosion than be allowed to desecrate the Jaeger any more than they already had. The drivesuit readouts for Mako and Raleigh had both flatlined; the shrieker’s jaws were like a bear trap, chewing through the Jaeger with horrifying ease. He had watched them die, and all Herc wanted was for the monsters who’d killed them to burn.

That had been five minutes ago. Now, Herc didn’t know _what_ to think.

“Someone clean this up,” he said, looking around. One of the techs glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded abruptly, trying to tune the broadcast and filter out the thick haze of static. The images couldn’t be right. Surely this was some kind of…Herc’s rationalizations stuttered and fell flat, and he simply stared at the screen.

“Why is it attacking its own kind?”

Herc looked over at Liang. Gottlieb had gone silent, leaning against her with his face averted and the handkerchief pressed hard against his nose. She knelt on the floor with him where he’d slid off the chair, her arms securely around his shoulders. Herc shook his head slowly, looking back to the screen.  
            “I don’t…I don’t know…”

            His voice trailed off and he gave a start as the kaiju-hound threw its head back and howled, charging the shrieker and tackling it. Its paws slammed down on the shrieker’s shoulders and it started to savage the kaiju’s face with its teeth. The shrieker tried to push it away with all six arms but the unexpected attack had caught it off-guard; its body thrashed, head jerking spasmodically to one side as though trying to shake something out of it. The video’s sound was spotty, the shrieker’s piercing cries reduced to wet, grating gasps overpowered by the hound’s enraged howling.

            “What is it _doing?_ ” Liang asked, echoing Herc. Gottlieb gave a convulsive twitch against her and she hushed him, holding him carefully. “Easy, now…”

            The shrieker pulled itself free of the hound and staggered back a step. It swayed, its pairs of secondary and tertiary arms curling up against its heaving chest like an insect’s legs folding in on itself…and then suddenly it pitched forward, collapsing to the ground. Dust was thrown into a massive cloud above it, obscuring both kaiju and the fallen Jaeger. The spotter circled like a buzzard above the scene, trying to find an opening in the shroud.

            “Sir.”  
            Herc’s eyes were fixed on the screen, watching dust swirl in the wind. He could almost see the kaijus’ silhouettes.

            “Marshall. Marshall _Hansen._ ”

            Herc nearly jumped out of his skin as the technician beside him put her hand on his shoulder. Her face was white and her eyes were a shade too wide as she pointed to the other video feeds.

            “Sir…look.”

            Turning away from her slowly, Herc’s eyes darted from monitor to monitor. Aquitaine, Keelung, Reykjahlíð, and now Ikoyi, Nigeria’s Breach finally spilling out a massive kaiju of its own; but something was happening, something bizarre, something Herc simply couldn’t wrap his head around. He stared at the broadcast from Ikoyi.

The heavy tusked, bear-like kaiju standing at the edge of Ikoyi’s city limits was shaking its head slowly to and fro, pawing at the ground as though trying to decide whether it wanted to charge or not. The Breach was a vivid gold line on the horizon behind it; it bowed its head down slowly, nostrils flaring as it sniffed at the ground like a dog…and then it suddenly turned back, walking away. Herc sat down slowly in front of the row of monitors, eyes flicking to Aquitane’s broadcast. The twin kaiju were facing one another, gnashing teeth and clicking mandibles rapidly. They stared at each other and then looked in unison towards the sea. The thick armor of their backs split open and massive, wet-looking wings uncurled, vibrating too fast for the eye to follow.

            “This is impossible.”

            Herc barely recognized his own voice. It was choked, thin and small; his mind was reeling, eyes unblinking as he watched the broadcasts. There was a chorus of high-pitched shrieks from Keelung’s monitor; Bedlam was charging through the ruins it had made, its jaw scraping against the ground as it chased after the flocks of kaiju jackals and snapped them up. Several jumped on its face and clawed into it vengefully and it simply shook its head, sending them flying and colliding with buildings. The shattered bodies of the tiny kaiju littered Bedlam’s wake.

            “What the fuck is happening?”

            Herc looked over his shoulder at Liang again. Gottlieb’s face was ashen grey; blood slicked down from his nose and dripped off him, wetting Liang’s collar as she stubbornly cradled him against her. Herc stood slowly, flinching involuntarily as the slimy, tendril-wreathed kaiju wandering past Reykjahlíð gave a keening howl. He knelt down beside Gottlieb, brushing sweat-soaked hair from his face and gently tilting his head back.

            “Doctor Gottlieb?” Herc asked. His tone seemed even, a thin veneer of calm that only barely hid the shake in his voice. “Hermann?”  
            Gottlieb’s eyes opened slowly and he stared avidly at Herc. His hand fell away from his face and his head tilted to one side like an inquisitive animal’s; Herc felt something in his chest give an unpleasantly anxious twist.

            “Doctor Gottlieb,” he repeated softly. “What’s happened?”

            Gottlieb’s eyes trailed away from Herc and wandered over to the monitors, watching with that same avid curiosity. He made a soft sound, half a growl, half a sigh. Herc put a hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly.

            “Hermann, please. Come back. Look at me. What’s _happened?”_

            The sound grew a little stronger and Gottlieb shrugged Herc’s hand off. His eyes unfocused and closed again, and he rocked back against Liang.

            “It’s so quiet now,” he said slowly. Herc had to lean close to hear him; his voice was barely above a whisper. “They’ve all gone so quiet.”

            He swallowed hard, the hand clutching his kerchief clumsily raising it back to his nose, dabbing at the half-dried stream.

            “How strange,” he muttered, as though to himself. “How _strange_. Broken patterns and bridging gaps. Silence…silence turns to absence, absence to substance, filling with itself…”

            His eyes flickered open slightly and he leaned forward, nodding. Herc watched him warily though he kept himself from flinching as Gottlieb grabbed clumsily at his shoulder.

            “You get it?” he asked Herc. “You understand? It’s…”

            He smiled vaguely and nodded again, acting as though he was sharing a secret. Herc pulled him carefully away from Liang, helping him sit upright and catching his head as it lolled back. Gottlieb’s hand slipped away and clutched at his own chest, fingers knotting in his bloodied shirt.

            “It’s so _quiet_ , Marshall.”

            No one in LOCCENT said a word, a wide ring growing around Herc, Liang and Gottlieb. The monitors had all been muted but the main screen still popped and hissed with static – Gottlieb was the only one that didn’t jump or flinch at the sudden shrieking roar that erupted from it.

 

\--

 

            Mako’s chest was on fire. She lay curled on her side, gasping for breath; with every one she managed to get in, a sharp pain stabbed into her. The harness arm lay heavily atop her and she pushed at it, hissing through her teeth with pain as she dislodged it and army-crawled over the ruined Conn-Pod floor. She clumsily pawed at her helmet and pulled it off, her neck stiff and head throbbing. The helmet fell to the floor with a heavy crash and she winced. She laid her head down against the cool metal for a moment to try and regroup; her body ached, her head was swimming…

            “Raleigh?”

            She raised herself up, looking around Pod. He had been thrown so hard, his body smashing against the console; no one could endure a hit like that and walk away uninjured. Mako pushed herself forward on her belly, half-crawling through the debris.

            “Raleigh?”

            There was a sudden fierce shriek overhead. Mako pressed her body down flat against the floor reflexively, trying to hide. Her eyes went wide as she stared out into the desert; the air was full of shifting, settling dust, but she could see two massive silhouettes lurking outside the Pod. Heavy footsteps shook the ground and the shrieking came again in unsteady waves. Mako felt a jab of panic; the kaiju that had nearly swallowed them, up and walking again. The Pod must have rolled free of its mouth when it fell. There was a long, lupine howl and Mako jolted as the shrieking turned agonized, paired with a wet ripping noise.

            Mako pushed herself up off the floor and gasped at the pain in her ribs, hunching over and one arm slinging tightly around her chest. She hobbled towards the gaping hole in front of the Pod, sheltering behind a remaining shard of the visor and staring outside. The kaiju-hound was on the offensive, circling its prey. Something was dangling from its mouth; Mako squinted, realizing one of the shrieking kaiju’s secondary arms was hanging limply from the hound’s jaws. She gaped at it, shrinking back as the wounded kaiju charged the hound, plowing into it.

            The hound snarled at the shrieker, pushing it back savagely and raking its claws against the kaiju’s already badly wounded chest. The kaiju gave a keening sound and fell back, blood raining into the dirt. It coughed and its head jerked to one side, shaking as though with palsy. The hound drew back, watching it and making an odd, soft clicking noise in the back of its throat. The shrieking kaiju’s spasm passed and it shook its head hard, the jaws splitting its skull open painfully wide in threat. The hound gave a shudder; the irregular spikes lining its spine laid flat against its back as it charged again. The shrieker wrapped its heavy arms against it and they fell to the ground, rolling towards the Pod.

            Mako fell back, tripping against the instrument console and sending a hot stab of pain through her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself and willed herself not to get sick as the fire settled in nauseating knots in her stomach. The kaiju had stopped rolling, the hound pinning the shrieker down and clamping its teeth around its throat.

The shrieker thrashed violently, clawing at it and trying to get free. Its head jerked in sharp spasm again and the hound’s crushing grip eased; Mako realized it was waiting for something – but what, she couldn’t say. The spasm ended after a long moment and the shrieker gave an ugly gasp, its remaining secondary arms jamming claws into the hound and trying to rip it open. The hound gave a terrible sound and clamped its jaws down firmly in the shrieker’s throat, and gave a powerful shake of its head. The shrieker scrabbled uselessly, trying to escape again – the hound braced its legs down on the kaiju’s shoulders and jerked its head viciously to the side.

The shrieker’s neck broke with a sharp _crack,_ its eyes going wide and its arms falling limply to the ground.

Mako fell back deeper into the Conn-Pod, swamped with pain and confusion. The kaiju had killed one of its own…she shook her head, trying to comprehend what she had seen. It made no sense. It made no sense at all. The hound climbed off the dead kaiju, sniffing and prodding at it as though trying to understand its own actions. The desert was quiet and still now, but if Mako strained, she could have sworn she heard something over the hound’s soft growling and the sighing wind. It sounded almost like the whirr of a helicopter.

Raleigh. She had to find Raleigh. The helicopter was their only chance of escape. She turned away and started rooting through the debris.

“Raleigh, please…answer me, where are you?”

She picked her way through loose panels and hanging vines of cables and wiring, trying to find him. Her voice was thin and strained, a catch of pain edging every word. Mako stood in the middle of the Conn-Pod and felt very alone, looking around the ruins in growing fear.

“Raleigh Becket, _answer me!”_

There was a sound of weak, shifting movement in one corner. Mako climbed over the mangled ruins of Raleigh’s own harness arm and spotted him lying on his side against the far wall. His helmet’s visor was shattered and his face was bloodied and pale, and he gave a low groan of pain when Mako tried to turn him over onto his back.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just hold still, it’s alright…”

She loosened the helmet and carefully pulled it off; Raleigh’s head lolled back and he gave a gasping curse, coughing. Mako held him up as best she could, her ribs screaming in protest. Raleigh’s eyes slowly cracked open and he stared up at her. He grinned very weakly.

“Did we win?”

Mako gave a sharp, startled laugh, wincing as the fire flared.

“Let’s call it a draw…”

Raleigh didn’t reply, eyes rolling up slightly as he started to lose consciousness. Mako gave him a hard shake and he groaned again.

“Stay awake. There is a helicopter still circling…they are our ticket out. Alright? But you must stay awake.”

“Alright…alright, m’awake. I’m okay. But there’s…”

He trailed off, looking blearily towards the desert. The hound was still hovering over the dead kaiju’s body, its tail between its legs. Raleigh stared at it in bafflement.

“How…?”

Mako sat Raleigh up straight against the wall, standing painfully and looking around.

“I’ll tell you in a moment. Stay awake and I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Okay…”

The emergency flares were still locked up in the back of the Pod. Mako pulled the box open with a moment’s hard effort, catching one of the flare guns as they spilled free. All she had to do was signal; the chopper would be alerted to their survival, and then the military support would surely approach and hold off the kaiju-hound while she and Raleigh were evacuated. It was still flying overhead, she could hear the sharp whirr of it…and something else, suddenly. A pitching, cackling sound, much closer than the chopper.

One of the small hunter kaiju was approaching. Mako watched wide-eyed as it slunk closer to the Pod, sniffing them out. It ran a ropy tongue over rows of teeth, strings of drool slicking down its face. Mako swallowed hard, gripping the flare gun painfully tight and slowly raising it, aiming at the kaiju’s wedge-shaped head. The kaiju cackled and chittered to itself, peering into the Pod – its eyes fixed on Mako and it licked its teeth hungrily, starting to slink inside. Mako gave a guttural curse and fired.

The kaiju gave a sharp yelp, scrabbling back and whining as the flare caught it full in the face. The smell of its burning flesh was a sharp ammonia-laced reek, and it shrieked as it twisted in the dust. Mako felt a moment’s savage satisfaction before she realized its shrieking was attracting more of its kin – she watched them slink and slither out from the dust and her heart went cold. The flare gun dropped out of her hand and she watched them crowd around the pod, cackling voices rising in chorus. One of the kaiju poked its head inside, snapping its teeth and reaching one lanky arm towards her; Mako recoiled, raising her arms defensively and bracing for the end.

The hound bayed outside the Pod, and suddenly its paw smashed down right into the middle of the gathered flock, scattering some and crushing others. The kaiju reaching for Mako gave a shrieking yelp as it was yanked out of the Pod; there was a sharp crunching noise and it fell back to earth, bitten cleanly in half. Mako stared at it in shock. The cackling yelps and screeches faded as the kaiju scattered, but the hound was still lingering outside. Mako’s mouth went dry and her heart began to pound painfully fast; the hound had settled onto its belly in front of the Pod, virulent green eyes fixed on it. She crept towards the opening, standing just outside the Pod and looking up. The kaiju-hound looked back, the hunter’s blood a bright wet splotch on its lips. It watched her silently and with disconcerting intelligence.

“Well, then,” Mako said, voice wavering slightly. “I suppose I owe you one for that.”


	38. Chapter 38

 

 

            Newt woke with a sharp gasp.

            For a moment he struggled, sucking in air as though he had been drowning. His body was rigid in spasm and arching up off the floor where he’d lain discarded like a ragdoll; his hands clawed frantically at the metal grating, fingers catching in the thin slats. The spasms passed after a moment and he gave a hacking cough, rolling over onto his side and drawing his arms close around himself defensively. His eyes darted around the room but everything was blurred; he’d gone and lost his glasses somehow.

He lay there shivering in something close to shock for a long few moments, listening to his breath rasping. Why was he on the floor? Had he tripped? Had he passed out?  A strange haziness clouded his mind and refused to lift, his thoughts scattered. He pushed himself up clumsily, trying to reorient himself. The surroundings were familiar at leas; he paused, squinting around in growing confusion.

He was in the lab… the base of operations he’d shared with Gottlieb in Hong Kong for eight months. Homesickness surged through Newt and he bowed his head down, avoiding looking at Gottlieb’s corner of the room – the chalkboards loomed like monoliths and the sight of Gottlieb’s handwriting was too much to deal with at the moment.

Newt shifted and pushed himself up to kneel, trying to even out his breathing. His heart was racing and he could almost _feel_ the blood pounding in his head, his vision throbbing in and out of focus with every heartbeat. He closed his eyes and took a very long, deep breath, holding it for a moment. He knew where he was and that was a good start. He’d figure out everything else out bit by bit - there was no need to rush, and no need to panic.

Something was buzzing faintly behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find the messy pile of his patchwork Pons system looming behind him and the headset lying discarded on the floor. The buzzing sound was emanating from the headset, the metal prongs crawling with threads of bright red energy. He picked it up and instantly regretted it; sharp crackles of electricity bit at his skin and sent shocks up his arm. He dropped it quickly and hugged his hand to his chest with an exasperated curse. He really _couldn’t_ go more than five minutes at a time without hurting himself.

There was a tremendous, muffled _boom_ somewhere outside the lab. Newt flinched at it, looking up at the ceiling where the overhead lights were swinging. Dust and crumbs of cement fell to the floor as the noise grew stronger, and Newt could feel the vibrations that shook the floor and walls. It sounded like there was a war going on outside.

He reached out almost instinctively to find the hivemind wanting to ask it what was happening, but he couldn’t find it. Instead there was a sense of pressure against his mind; Newt had always thought of the hivemind’s presence like a crushing stream but this was somehow different, the sense of it flowing past him like a slow, strong current. He reached out to it and tried to connect to something, _anything,_ but the current simply flowed on and seemed to be ignoring him. Newt felt oddly hurt and rejected. All that time building trust and understanding with the hive, and now it seemed to want nothing to do with him.

“Fine, be like that…”

Newt stood slowly. The door to the lab was firmly closed and locked, and he gave it an uncertain look before turning away from it to wander towards his desk. There were thick cables running over the floor from the Pons system to one of the specimen tanks; the tank itself was empty, bubbles beading the glass as the preservative solution inside cycled through the tank’s filter. This was the tank that had held Mutavore’s brain sample…Newt pressed his hand against the glass uncertainly and the sense of pressure up around his mind grew a little heavier.

He remembered the day he’d brought the sample to the lab; his failed discussion with Marshall Pentecost and Herc, trying to plead his case to be allowed to Drift. Gottlieb in the background with that damn self-satisfied look when he’d been shot down…Newt’s eyes flickered closed and he rocked forward slightly, the memories suddenly dredging up in vivid, overwhelming clarity as the haze rolled back.

 

 

_waiting for the planes carrying his samples out from Sydney with bated breath, impatient and irritating Gottlieb ceaselessly, unable to contain the excitement that was making him yammer- category three, probably about twenty six hundred tons if it’s a pound- did you see how its eyes were oriented, the vestigial wings, the way it used its hooks to damage buildings before using its main arms to push through them  - ?_

_in an elevator out from the pouring rain, bickering with Gottlieb and shooing the other occupants away from the tanks - kaiju specimens are extremely rare, so look but don’t touch, please!_

Newt pushed away from the tank, sweat coating his face in a fine sheen. The current around his mind felt as though it was turning into a riptide trying to pull him under. He fell back a step and bumped into his desk chair, fumbling with it and sinking down to sit. His glasses were sitting on the desktop on top of a pile of folders; he stared at them for a moment and then slowly picked them up, sliding them on. He sat there and tried to pretend for a moment that he was perfectly calm; the riptide eased as he tried to focus on nothing but the floor, trying to hone his attention on something solid and uninteresting.

 The booming noises came again and he cringed as the lights suddenly flickered, looking up involuntarily. Failing lights, power surges; his shifted attention provoked the riptide and Newt suddenly leaned forward, hugging his arms around himself as the memories clashed through his mind in bright, terrible noise-

 

 

_rolling power outages, lights burning out and bursting and cold realization that_

_it was the wolves  at the d oor     trying to push i t down and  flood_

_ins id e_

_a gain_

_and sendi ng   their   war   dog s  to fi nish  the     j  o b_

 

 “Oh…oh, my God.”

Newt’s voice was thin and shaking. He grabbed for the desk’s edge and pulled himself up, but the world seemed to tilt sharply to one side and he staggered. He missed the haze; better to have the muffling static than this. The memories were vividly bright as though he was living every moment again, hearing everything, seeing everything.

He screwed his eyes closed and and tried to shut it out. The riptide had seized him and he was helpless in it – he called out to the hivemind it bounced back at him, echoes of _help_ and _stop_ ringing in his ears voicelessly. He wanted to black out. He wanted to stop, to be quiet, to be still – he couldn’t regulate his own mind and the riptide was pulling him in a thousand different directions.

“Stop. Stop stop _stop-“_

Couldn’t stop. Couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. Memories rose to the surface out of synch and seemingly at random; Scunner pulling itself from the water and wading towards the Shatterdome docks, running for his life as Otachi’s newborn crawled shrieking after him, counting down to the Drift with the Pons set on his head and a thrill of excitement and terror twisting in his gut as he stared at Mutavore’s brain – on and on and on, the memories ran rampant. Newt’s entire life flashed before him in seconds that dragged on for days, some coming into focus more sharply than others and replaying on loops – almost as though something was examining them.

 “ _STOP!”_

The riptide shuddered around him and slowly began to pull back, and Newt put a tentative hand to the back of his head. The initial shock faded into a wary kind of quiet. He felt very strange – aware of his own mind and memories, but not wholly owning them. They were filtering through him into the riptide and joining some greater stream he couldn’t quite touch; if he pushed his focus out again cautiously he could feel himself within it, even as he existed outside it.

 The riptide pressed up around him again and Newt could feel awareness in it- the hive finally turning its attention back to him. He clung to the conscious presence of it all the same, glad simply to be noticed – but it felt different from the ones he’d known before. Scunner had been impressions of crushing depths and freezing water, Meathead full of jittery energy and unstable emotions. This…this felt alien to him, in a true sense of the word.

“You’re scaring me,” he said, very quietly. His voice shook. “I told you never to do this kind of thing to me again.”

There was no answer. Newt swallowed hard and stood, leaning against the desk to keep his balance. His hand knotted in his hair and clutched at the back of his head as though afraid something was going to spill out…but how could he lose what was already outside him? His mind had broken apart when he’d gone along with the hive, and he’d been put back together very strangely.

“ _Is_ it you?” he asked. “Why are you doing this?”

There was a distant _boom_ that shook the lab so hard the lights swung again, bulbs flickering.

“Why did you put me here?”

The watchful quiet was starting to scare him more than the examination and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d failed some kind of test. The hive had seen every part of him, every second of his life. Maybe upon such close study it hadn’t liked anything it had seen.

“Answer me,” Newt said. “C’mon. You always want to talk to me, don’t you?”

The walls reverberated with another distant crash. Newt took a few experimental steps and breathed a soft sigh of relief when he didn’t immediately keel over, going towards the door. It was vault-like and heavy; Gottlieb had always insisted on keeping it open and unlocked since it was such a hassle to maneuver the damn thing. Newt tugged on it now and it was locked firmly in place, the metal cold and unyielding.

“You can’t just keep me in here. Let me out.”

Newt waited for a moment but there was still no answer; he still felt the sense of being observed but it seemed far away, like he was a specimen being watched under a microscope. His mouth went dry at the thought.

“Please,” he said. His voice was dropping to a whisper now, and fear like sick heat was prickling through him. “Please. We’re Drift partners. I gave you a directive. I _trust_ you. Don’t….don’t do this to me, please, you _know_ me…”

Maybe Tendo had been right all along to question the hivemind’s loyalties. Newt had wanted to trust something he thought he had understood, and now he was trapped. Trapped and being studied and _isolated._ Just as Meathead had been isolated for eight years, slowly going mad in its imprisonment. It was going to do the same thing to him.

“Meathead, _please._ It’s Newt. It’s NEWT, goddammit! Don’t _do this to me!”_

He slammed his hands against the door, starting to shout.

_“LET ME OUT!”_

Newt leaned on the door, shoulders shaking and head pressed against the icy metal. There were a series of reverberations like explosions but he didn’t really hear them, too caught up in his own fear and the sick realization that he’d been wrong in his trust, paralyzed by the betrayal. He sank down to the floor and covered his head with his arms. He was trapped. He was trapped…

There was a long moment of stillness and several sudden loud clicks. Newt jolted and sat back, eyes wide as the door unlocked itself. He pushed himself up and reached out, pushing it open with his fingertips; the door opened an inch and a thin line of rust-colored light speared through the crack. Newt hesitated, swallowing hard again and casting one last look around the lab. His gaze lingered on the chalkboards for a long moment and he steeled himself, turning back to the door and pushing it open.

He immediately wished he hadn’t; noise and light hit him in such an intense wave he thought it would shatter him, his mind buckling under the sudden influx of impressions. Pain, fire, water, stars, sunlight – a thousand different perspectives flooded through him all at once, Earth and the Anteverse and Breaches, God, there were _dozens_ of Breaches and they were all spilling out kaiju in relentless streams-

But the streams were twisting in on themselves, kaiju turning on their own and pushing them back. Perspectives spliced together and he saw a desert, loosed a deep baying howl but the voice was not _his-_ it was something enormous, something injured and weary and furious as it fought against its own kind – no, no, it didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to hurt its hive but the Precursors _would not let them in,_ the hive struggled and tore at the bonds keeping them out but the shell would not admit them, the shreds of a new aspect struggling and failing inside the other and it knew there was no choice – take the other’s throat in its teeth and _SILENCE IT-!_

Images spliced together again and Newt was split between twins, massive wings kicking up maelstroms as they abandoned land and took to the air – identical to the last spur in their insect-like armor, all terrible gnashing teeth and mandibles and compound eyes that saw the world in a thousand shattered images – diving into the sea and going home again, pushing through the doorway that split the world open and pushing through the tunnel-

Home. Home, home, home. Red skies, burning stars, a violently churning sun that loomed over the ruins of platforms and towers – another world the Precursors had been using up to the last fumes, searching for a new home and out of time again always out of time – the kaiju were running through the ruins and they were following their directive even as the Precursors shouted _stop,_ their voices rising in shrieking chorus in commands that slid off the kaiju’s minds like water – there was no stopping this, no end until the last of the threat had been removed and the earth salted in their wake.

An army falling upon itself and the Precursors scurrying around their feet – a hundred different ways Newt watched the end, kaiju tearing up the ruins and unmaking them completely – countless worlds, countless ways they had learned how to destroy until there was nothing left and the invaders could begin again. New invaders now of their own creation – it was terrible and necessary and satisfying to watch them fall, but the small, struggling part of the hive that was Newt watched and knew he was the one that had caused this final assault. He’d sparked a war.

He watched the Precursors fall to the kaiju, and hated that he grieved.

It went on for minutes or hours or days – Newt came apart and reformed so many times in the hive he lost track of time and could only hold on to shreds of his sense of identity, surfacing from aspect only to be thrown into another. His hand was still on the door in the lab – a prison, a cage, a shield to protect him from this – but he couldn’t shut it. He _didn’t_ want to shut it. This was his war and he would watch it and remember, because to turn away meant losing his soul; turning away meant he didn’t care that this was his doing and his fault, his burden and his responsibility. He had set the hive free and whispered two simple words in their ears, and those words had destroyed so much. It was terrifying. It felt like playing God.

He looked through the eyes of something massive and lumbering, the tusks that curved out from its wide mouth so heavy that its head was pulled towards the ground. Its steps shook the world and it stopped in front of a massive cluster of machinery that spewed energy in waves from line upon line of spires like lightning rods, holding open rifts that split the sky. It knocked its head against a line of rods and a rift slammed shut, sealing itself like a healing wound. The kaiju looked to the other lines and began to smash them apart, tangles of chitin and metal and paths of crackling energy disrupted, going haywire and extinguishing.

One by one the Breaches slammed shut. Newt gave a fierce, victorious cry and a hundred kaiju echoed him, the noise ringing through the ruins. The kaiju paused before the last line of rods, looking up at the final Breach and then drawing back. Newt watched through it in mounting confusion – no, no, this wasn’t part of the plan, the kaiju went home and the Precursors were stopped, that was the _deal –_ he pushed and shouted but the kaiju would not move, sitting down on its haunches and letting its head hang, tired from its rampaging.

The hive twisted and reformed around Newt, gathering his scattered consciousness back into one spot and letting his mind bead back together like pooling mercury. It felt unnatural to be all in one place again and he resisted but the hive wouldn’t let up, pushing him into one place – one mind, cleaved away from the whole. He’d been like this before, long before. He remembered that…but did he want to be that way again? Was it being reduced, or simply himself again?

His vision darkened and his hearing faded, and Newt fell forward onto his hands and knees. Solidity was startling and he collapsed onto the ground, feeling too heavy. He struggled to breathe and coughed, sending up a cloud of sand where his face was pressed against the shore. Water slid against the sand inches from him in tiny wavelets, and the wind that passed over him smelled sharply of brine.

Newt coughed as he forced himself to remember how to breathe, and with a tremendous push of effort lifted his head. The sea stretched in front of him endlessly, bordered by a shore of soft grey sand. His hands sank into it as he pushed himself up and he dusted it off, coughing again at the feel of grit in his mouth. The world was quiet and still all around him, the soft sound of waves breaking against the shore the only thing he could hear. Newt shifted slowly and sat in the sand, looking around.

“So that’s it done?” he asked. His voice was very hoarse, his throat and mouth dry. “Is it done?”

            How long did a war of extermination really last? When the enemy was weakened and their defenses broken, an army could sweep through like a plague and wreak havoc. Had his war been won? Newt’s eyes began to sting at the thought. His war. His idea, his kaiju. Had Raleigh felt like this? Throwing Gipsy Danger at the Precursors, her heart set to overload and detonate? Newt wondered why he’d never asked. It seemed like an important question. How do you deal with knowing how many you’ve killed?

            He swiped his hand against his eyes, unsure what to feel. The hivemind had given all of him back to himself but he felt bereft, missing even the riptide threatening to suck him under and smother him with its overwhelming presence. He was alone. It wasn’t maddening and terrible, but still…he would have liked the company.

            He sat there for a long time. The tide drew no closer or further away, the water simply sweeping up against the sand in unchanging rhythm. When he trusted himself to be steady enough to stand Newt rose, brushing the powder-fine sand off his clothes. The world was dim, caught perpetually in the moments between sunset and full night. The sky was greyish-blue and cloudless, spotted with stars that were barely visible. Newt recognized the sky; he’d ghost-Drifted here. He hadn’t seen the shore before. Maybe if he had walked across the sea long enough he would have found it.

            Newt looked around again. The shore stretched as endlessly as the sea, unbroken and flat in all directions. It was a desert behind him and he had no desire to go wandering through it; he turned towards the sea and walked into it. He tried a few times to step on the surface but it seemed he’d lost the trick of it, and so he contented himself to wade in up to his knees, then his waist. The water was cold but not uncomfortable, and Newt skimmed his palms against the glassy surface. The sky was reflected in the water and he watched the stars flicker, reaching out to touch their images and sending distorting rings across the surface.

            He wondered briefly if he was dead. If he was, it didn’t seem so bad…the isolation aside, anyway. Newt went as still as he could and let the water calm around him, careful not to disturb it and distort the reflections. He felt as though he was standing in the middle of a field of stars, hanging suspended and silent.

            He stood there in the illusion for a time, only looking up when a series of rings rolling towards him set the reflections to wavering. He frowned, puzzled, and looked up to the horizon.

            Something stood in the water a long distance away. Newt’s confusion turned into startled astonishment. His perception of the kaiju seemed cyclical; the more he looked at it, the more of it he saw – the more he saw, the bigger it grew, and the bigger it grew the more the world expanded to hold it. He staggered backwards out of the water and fell against the shore, pushing himself across the ground and staring at it fixedly.

It took a long step forward and Newt realized it was looking at him, felt its attention honing in on him. It was a leviathan, impossible – it shouldn’t have existed. Nothing that enormous could _possibly_ exist. Its face was framed with sweeping tusks that reminded him of Scunner, its head covered in armor that swept back in stiff crests layered one on the other.

            Its teeth were perpetually bared, vivid blue light spilling out of its throat into its open mouth. The whorls and stripes on its slate grey hide glowed the same hue, cracks in its armor to reveal the bioluminescence inside it. It was a horror and it was beautiful, and as it approached the shore Newt felt very, very small before it. It looked down at him and he stared up at it; it could have swallowed Slattern whole like a shark eating a minnow. Its attention was fixed on him and Newt felt it brush up against his mind with startling familiarity.

            “It’s you,” he said. The leviathan growled very quietly and the noise still shook the ground, reverberating through Newt to the bones. “I know you.”

            It lowered its head towards the ground and it was though a mountain had bent down to greet him. He reached out and pressed his hand against the curve of a tusk; its breath smelled faintly of ammonia and its scales were feverishly hot to the touch. It was a skin thrown over the collected hive like a blanket; Newt could feel the legions of them inside it- splitting apart and reforming in a complex web of consciousness, separate and yet the same. It had made itself something solid for his benefit.

            “I know you,” he said again. The leviathan growled in agreement, clicking its teeth.“I didn’t recognize you for a second there.”

            He ran his hand along its scales, not minding how his palm burned from the heat of its body.

 

_selfselfself geiszlerhumanself se l f is outside   hive   but we  wait we wait to see to as k   s elf   wan t ed to   be  apar t_

“Yeah. Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I? That I didn’t mind being alone…feels like years ago.” Newt leaned against the kaiju, eyes closing and simply resting there for a moment. “It’s been a weird day, hasn’t it?”

The leviathan made a chittering noise, shifting in the water and curling its body up. Newt pushed away and sat down in front of it, making himself comfortable in the sand.

“It’s done, isn’t it...I watched it. I saw everything you guys did. You razed everything.”

 

 

_T  he   direct ive   is   followed   w e stop   we   st op   them as  se lf   d i  rected_

_as   w e were  gi  ven purpose   to ful fill_

Newt made a soft, thoughtful sound. It seemed like there should have been more – he had sent an army to war and they had won, but it felt like he had more to do. Ten years of fighting an uphill battle, struggling for every inch and pushing back against the invasion; the Jaeger program, the Corps. It felt strange to have someone tell him directly that the day had been won. He laughed slightly, shaking his head. They’d won. They had won…

“So what now? What are you going to do?”

The leviathan scratched massive channels into the ground idly with its claws, pondering the question.

 

_home is    a   la rge   un i verse    o thers   may re main to stop_

_w e will live   an d     wa it   i n  case   se lf’s   directive   ne eds   to  be follow ed   again_

Newt laughed again, much louder and with deeper emotion. The leviathan tilted its head to one side as it studied him curiously.

            “This is the best fuckin’ loophole I’ve ever seen. You _do_ that, okay? You _live._ You live and wait for the off chance that one of those assholes is still hanging around. You really never know, do you? They could be like roaches. So….you all just live and…and stand guard.”

            The leviathan shook itself, its tongue curling in its massive jaws and giving a coughing growl. Newt grinned, though it gave him an odd jab of pain to remember Meathead behaving the same way when it was amused. It was there within the hive and yet it wasn’t – it had become something else. Something more. They sat together for awhile and Newt looked up at the sky overhead, watching the stars flicker. Eventually he cleared his throat and the leviathan looked down at him again.

“What were you waiting to ask me?”

There was a stretch of strangely uneasy silence. The leviathan had a pair of secondary arms folded against its broad chest, three-fingered hands clasped together. It unfolded them now and reached up to scratch at its face, the massive talons clattering against its thick armor.

 

_un  sure  if self had    de cided to      st  ay_

            “Stay?”

            Newt considered it. He’d already come this far…he had seen what the hive was like. He had experienced what it was firsthand. He closed his eyes and could feel the hivemind gathered around him, no longer a crushing pressure or riptide but a _home,_ something alive and aware and whole again. The hivemind he knew was there and from it a new generation of aspects had formed- and every one of them knew him.

            “What would happen to me?”

            The leviathan shifted again, sending enormous waves rippling out to sea.

 

_P  a rt of  hive drifthivehome li ving bo nd s kaijuhuman self kaiju samesamesam e  all an d   one_

 

 

_n e ver  al one  hivehivehive  quiet   q u iet   ho me_

“And if I say no?”

The hivemind beneath the leviathan’s skin was silent for a long moment, weighing the question carefully.

 

_t h en  geiszlerh uman    says   no    an d         leav e s  us_

_g o ne   al ways_

_n o    retu rning_

“Is that why the last Breach is open?” Newt asked, very quietly. The leviathan made low sound, its teeth clicking together again sharply. “That’s why I’m still here at all, isn’t it? Close the door and the bonds are severed. Can’t sustain across a closed-off universe.”

The leviathan heaved out a sigh so strong it knocked Newt back, its breath a gale. He pushed himself back up and adjusted his glasses, brushing the sand off. He sat there a moment and then rolled to his feet, craning his head back to look it in the face properly. It was a beautiful thing but he suddenly wished very badly that he could see Meathead again.

“You know what I’m going to choose,” he said. He brushed his hand against the back of his head, touching the base of his skull. “This isn’t where I need to be.”

           The hivemind buzzed and churned beneath the leviathan’s skin, the bright lines on its body pulsing as though in time with a rapid heartbeat. It gave a low groan that shook the ground and pulled away from Newt, standing and towering far above him.

 

 

            _a   way   far a nd   gone    al ways  self   ch  ooses to leave   and w e  cann o t follow_

_s elf goes   away from i ts   hive but  h ive    rememb ers   self_

“Are you saying you’ll miss me?” Newt asked, very softly. The hivemind curled around him, and he gave a startled sound as he felt something inside him begin to loosen and come free. “What are you _doing?_ ”

           

            _d   ead   bond s are   wounds   th at  do   not heal_

_w e   un ra vel the   threads that   bind   and  c lean the  dead   away_

_s elf   leaves u s   so   we   g ive   this  to  self_

It felt as though parts of his mind were being unwound. Newt staggered and fell onto the sand heavily; the long-dead bonds were being stripped out of him, and with grieving cry he couldn’t stifle he felt the hivemind pull on its own living one. The world shifted violently around him as the bond was pulled loose, threads of connection severed and cauterized. The hivemind broke its bonds to him, holding on to the last thread of it for a brief moment. It was waiting for him and Newt had to struggle to find the resolve to speak. He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and whispered.

            “Let me go.”

            The hivemind held it closely and Newt felt the entirety of it – every aspect, every mind. They all knew him and they were all saying farewell. The world shifted again, and the thread unraveled.


	39. Chapter 39

 

 

There was music playing in a far corner of the infirmary. Mako sat up very slowly, the pain of her cracked ribs an ugly reminder she should be staying still, but she had been bedbound for two days already and was on the verge of tearing her hair out from the sheer boredom. She slipped off the bed and pushed her curtain back to look around; the infirmary was a relatively small space and the music was carrying. A nurse spotted her and tried to approach but Mako waved her off.

“I’m fine. I would just…like to move for a moment.”

The nurse frowned but offered no insistence that she go back to bed, stepping aside as Mako hobbled to the curtained off corner. She was winded and her chest was aching fiercely by the time she reached it, pulling it back an inch and peeking inside.

“Doctor Gottlieb?”

Gottlieb looked up from his laptop, turning the music down.

“Hello, Miss Mori,” he said softly. He gestured at the laptop apologetically. “Excuse the racket. I’ve been trying to find other news outlets that don’t lend themselves to sensationalism, but…”

Mako eased herself very carefully into the chair by his bedside, restraining a wince. Even with the painkillers her ribs had been keeping her awake and miserable, trying to breathe slowly so not to set them off. Sitting up and holding herself at just the right angle was tiring but she endured it without complaint. Gottlieb pushed himself up and set the laptop off to the side, eyeing the screen briefly; the online radio stream was accompanying a muted news broadcast.

“What are you listening to?”

Gottlieb smiled wryly, giving a shrug.

“Some independent radio station I stumbled across. I’m not usually one for _classics_ , but if suffering through it means I can get to unbiased news reports, I suppose it’s worth the pain.”

“And what is going on out there?”

Gottlieb turned the laptop towards her. _“Like A Rolling Stone”_ gave narration to scenes from Aquitaine, aerial footage showing the swathe of destruction the twin kaiju had caused before they had turned around. Footage of the kaiju played on a loop in one corner and Mako watched them with narrowed eyes. Gottlieb smiled again rather humorlessly.

“Wrath and Ruin,” he said. She looked at him blankly. “Their codenames. They’ve all received names after the fact…”

“Seems fitting,” Mako said dryly. The amount of damage the twins had caused was incredible; she could easily tell it would take years to repair the roads and buildings they had destroyed. “They had a set destination in mind, didn’t they?”

“The coastline is rather densely populated,” Gottlieb said. “They were making a straight line through to the mainland…sight-seeing, perhaps. Aquitaine was a tourist locale once upon a time.”

Mako snorted at the weak joke and Gottlieb grinned a little, though it faded as he studied the bruises and scrapes on her face. She returned the look evenly, lingering on the blood that ringed the iris in his right eye.

“We’re both rather worse for wear, aren’t we?” he asked. She nodded.

“I know how I got my own war wounds…what happened to _you?_ ”

Gottlieb sat back and sighed, setting the laptop off to the side again. The news broadcast had switched over to live coverage over Keelung – the devastation Bedlam had left behind was difficult to look at, and he closed the laptop halfway.

“If I’m completely honest, I’m not quite sure,” he said after a moment. “Memory’s a bit…unreliable. I recall LOCCENT and watching Screel attack you-”

“Screel?”

“That ghastly shrieking thing. It wasn’t so much a kaiju as a living nightmare, was it?”

Mako nodded and smiled wryly.

“There’s several things I’d like to call it, but I won’t say them in front of polite company.”

Gottlieb laughed and the wryness faded from Mako’s smile as she ducked her head in amusement. She shifted slightly in the chair and took a shallow breath as her ribs gave a sharp twinge, but otherwise showed no discomfort.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. So, you watched Screel…”

“Yes. Watched it to the point where it tore off the Conn-Pod from Chrome Brutus, then everything got rather…splintered. I was feeling pain that belonged to someone else…I could hardly speak or move from it but it was _Newton’s_ pain, you see. I could sense it or…or feel it through the bond we share, and…ahh. I’m rambling, pardon me. So, there I was sitting with Miss Liang and all of a sudden I just seemed to _shatter_ , almost. I was completely outside myself.”

He stared at the dull tan blanket rucked around his lap, smoothing out the wrinkles in the scratchy fabric. His voice was soft and distant.

“I wish I could _explain_ it properly. I think it’s one of those experiences one must have themselves in order to understand. I was myself, but I wasn’t. Whole but broken into a thousand different parts…at least I _think_ it was me. It may have been Newton. I can’t be certain.”

He trailed off, looking up at her with a lost expression.

“Newton did something. I don’t know what. He was in agony. Burning. And then he suddenly wasn’t. There was a moment’s silence and then it was as though…”

He shook his head again.

“I’m sorry. I must sound mad to you. I cannot even begin to find the proper way to explain.”

Mako put her hand over his, holding it lightly.

“It’s alright,” she said. “Drifting is a complicated thing to explain at the best of times. It sounds like that’s what happened. Some kind of residual Drift.”

“Perhaps. I’ve certainly ghosted often enough the past few months. That little forced excursion into the Drift two weeks ago couldn’t have helped things much.”

His expression fell so suddenly it alarmed Mako, and she put a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head slowly.

“Has it only been two weeks?” he asked. “All of this, in only two weeks. No…no, not even that, is it. It’s been…what? A week and four days? Or was it longer?”

He laughed slightly, though his expression didn’t change.

“My God, I don’t even know what _day_ it is. Time’s just slipped by me…”

There was a faint tremor in his voice, and he only looked over at Mako again when she gave his shoulder a firm shake. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter and looking apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t be behaving this way. You and Mister Becket were nearly eaten _alive_. I’m woolgathering, just ignore me.”

“It’s been a long few weeks for everyone…you dismiss your own traumas too easily,” Mako said. “You’re always too concerned for everyone else around you to care about yourself when you are hurting.”

“You paint me in a rather gallant light, Miss Mori,” Gottlieb said. Mako gave a slight, airy shrug and he laughed again, more controlled this time. “I think that level of self-sacrifice is more Mister Becket’s territory than mine.”

He paused, looking around as though expecting to see Raleigh peeking through the curtains.

“Is he…?”

“Fine,” Mako said reassuringly. “Concussion, fractured shoulder and a bruised...everything, actually. But he is alright. He’s been sleeping most of the day today.”

“I should have asked from the start,” Gottlieb said. “Excuse me, my dear. And your own injuries?”

Mako tilted her head back in almost playful bravado, putting her hand to her chest.

“Just the three cracked ribs, really. I’m certain I’ll be aching for the next six months, but it could have been much worse.”

“I’m surprised it isn’t.”

“Good armor and dumb luck can be beneficial.”

Gottlieb gave a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Mako squeezed his hand one last time and sat back slowly, settling as comfortably as she could manage. They sat quietly together for a moment; the radio played on, “ _It Happened in Monterey_ ” crooning from the laptop. Mako gave him a look and Gottlieb shrugged, tapping his fingers deliberately along to the drums. They started to laugh very quietly, growing a little stronger as the song faded into “ _Walkin’ After Midnight”_ ; neither one knew why it was funny, sitting there as they were listening to the music. But it was comforting all the same.

“So,” she said eventually, ignoring the faint edge of pain in her voice as she tried to catch her breath. “Who is this Miss _Liang_ you mentioned?”

Gottlieb rolled his eyes heavenward, holding his hands up.

“I truly have no idea,” he said. “She and Marshall Hansen were at odds over _something._ Apparently she’s a spy.”

“What?”

“A _spy._ Don’t know to whom she was reporting, only that it was enough to set the Marshall off into a fit. I’ve been on the receiving end of that kind of anger before…I don’t envy her having to explain herself to him.”

He glanced around again, but like Raleigh, Liang was not there sneaking a look through the curtains.

“I suppose you wouldn’t have seen her about at all? Petite, shaven head, looks like she could catch a bullet in her teeth without flinching?”

Mako snorted again.

 “Can’t say I have.”

Gottlieb sighed in honest disappointment.

“More’s the pity.”

He fell quiet for a moment and then looked up at Mako almost furtively.

“They’re… saying a kaiju defended you.”

Mako’s expression shuttered and she studied the floor, eyes lingering on a dark scuff on the tiling.

“Who is ‘ _they’_?”

“Several news networks…the Marshall. Gossiping infirmary staff,” Gottlieb said, pushing the laptop open gain slowly. The pleasant music was at odds with a clearly terse, muted interview between a UN representative and BBC news anchor. “I’m afraid I wasn’t in any condition to witness the event myself. It cleared away those small jackal creatures from the Conn-Pod, didn’t it?”

“It did,” Mako said. “I don’t know why.”

“I could hazard a few guesses about its motivations. I just don’t want to say them aloud,” Gottlieb murmured. “They seem insane to even think on.”  
            Mako looked up from the floor, her gaze lingering on the laptop screen. The Canadian UN rep was looking faintly flushed in the face and annoyed with whatever he was talking about. The neon yellow header at the bottom of the screen boldly stated ‘ _Government Missteps in Handling New Kaiju Crisis?’_ and the news ticker was scrolling by with reports from all over the world of the reactions and devastation of the multiple events.

“I think insanity is too strong a word,” she said. “Logic seems very…malleable, these days.”

Gottlieb smiled as though at a private joke.

“Yes. It _can_ be stretched rather far without breaking.”

Mako shifted in her chair, her hand resting very lightly against her chest as her ribs ached. “ _My Baby Shot Me Down”_ played softly, the stuttering reverb of the guitar echoing and trying to fill the uneasy silence that fell between them.

“What did they name it?” she asked eventually. “You said they named all of them.”

“Spindle. Because of those peculiar spikes along its spine, I believe.”

Mako nodded absently.

“Raleigh broke one of them off. He speared Screel with it but it didn’t even seem to care. Spindle fought it…I don’t know why they were fighting. Screel was trying to kill it, but it kept having these…tremors, as though it was trying to resist something.”

Her hands knotted in her lap and her voice dropped.

“Spindle broke its neck.”

“Perhaps it knew something we didn’t,” Gottlieb said. Mako didn’t look up at him; her hands tensed, knuckles going white.  
            “We were being swarmed by the small ones,” she said. “I fired a flare and it just attracted an entire flock of them. I thought…it felt like…”

She looked up, her eyes overly bright.

“I hid from Onibaba behind a dumpster,” she said. “I crouched down in garbage and prayed it wouldn’t find me. I felt like that again when that…that disgusting thing was reaching for me through the visor. I felt pinned. Trapped. I prayed it would pass us by but something had to intervene and save us. Coyote Tango saved me the first time. This time it was something I had been trying my best to kill.”

Her shuttered expression began to crack and she rubbed impatiently at her eyes.

“It didn’t have to do what it did. It _shouldn’t_ have. It ripped Chrome apart. It pushed us right into Screel’s mouth. Why did a monster like that suddenly have a change of heart? Why did…why did it sit beside the Conn-Pod and _wait_ until the helicopter approached to evacuate us? Why did it _protect_ us?”

Gottlieb held her gaze evenly, speaking very quietly.

“Because something in it knew it was the right thing to do.”

“Since when do they have a sense of right and wrong?”

“I believe it’s a very recent development,” Gottlieb said. A flicker of pain crossed over his face unrealized. “And it cost a great deal for it to happen.”

The song ended, leaving them in brief silence; they both jumped as the DJ began to speak. His voice was cigarette-rough and tired.

_“Good morning, afternoon and evening from border to border and all the ships at sea. Been a long day in the world of news today, but I’ll spare you the intricacies of buck-passing our dearly ineffective United Nations friends have been spinning. I have to say, though – watching them try to explain why they deep-sixed the Jaeger program’s taken on a whole new level of entertaining now that fourteen known Breaches were cracked open and then sealed up again.”_

“Fourteen?” Mako asked incredulously. Gottlieb nodded.

“Several were traced in unpopulated areas or in the ocean…there’s been a lot of scouting to ensure no kaiju remained after their closures.”

“ _So we dodged another bullet, listeners,”_ the DJ said. “ _Don’t know the how’s or why’s of it, and neither does anyone else, apparently. No representatives from the Pan Pacific Defense Corps could be reached for comment – not that they take my calls anyway, mind you._ ”

Gottlieb surprised himself by laughing slightly, turning up the laptop’s volume. The DJ cleared his throat off-mic, his coarse voice edged with a faint tinny echo.

_“Lack of solid logical explanations aside, things are starting to get back to some kind of normal. Aid’s been dispersed to where the kaiju hit hardest and military the world over’s hunting for those nasty mini-kaiju we’ve got scurrying around every which way. PPDC’s already on top of extermination runs for those little bastards, but take heed, listeners – they’re mean, they’re fast, and gauging from the nests that have already been bombed out, they breed like flies. To those in the zones infested with those sons of bitches…tread softly.”_

“It can never be a clean and simple end, can it,” Gottlieb muttered. Mako patted his shoulder mock-consolingly. “I suppose you and Mister Becket will be out hunting those things eventually.”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t mind it.”

_“So here we are once again. World’s a little more shook up and wary this time around, and really, who could blame us? We boarded up one door so the invaders just knocked the whole damn house down. Who can say what’ll happen now…but for now, it’s back to picking ourselves up and rebuilding. We’ve gotten pretty damn good at endurance in the last decade, after all. Stay tuned in the next half hour for another brief news update…enjoy the music, and congratulations once again for surviving the goddamned apocalypse.”_

The mic clicked off and _“Norwegian Wood_ ” began to play. Gottlieb turned the volume down a bit and sat back, running his hands wearily over his face and through his hair.

“What _is_ going to happen now,” he muttered. Mako gave a spare laugh.

“Our track record has not been the best. The third time may be something even worse.”

“Mm. You think there _will_ be a third time?”

She said nothing for a moment, simply listening to the song.

“I don’t know,” she said as it ended. “I’m not sure we could make it through a third invasion. We barely survived this one.”

“We would have fared better if the Jaeger program had been allowed to continue uninterrupted through the first incursion. It seemed like a suicide run sending Chrome Brutus out there alone. You were so quickly overwhelmed.”

Mako made a sour noise, shaking her head.

“They _wrecked_ my _Jaeger._ She’s been torn to pieces…completely unsalvageable this time around. We’ll have to just keep dredging up every other scrapped asset and just focus on restoring them to full order.”

Gottlieb smiled ruefully.

“Sorry to bring up a sore subject, my dear. For what it’s worth, Chrome did perform admirably in the field before she was…dismantled.”

Mako gave him a sardonic look and he grinned, shrugging.

“Not just trying to be placating, I swear.”

“If Spindle hadn’t torn us to shreds, we would have put Screel down. We were just wearing it down a bit first.”

“Indeed. Had it backed into a corner, did you?”

Mako laughed, shoving Gottlieb’s shoulder. He fell back against the bed and held his hands up in surrender.  
            “Your jokes are as bad as Doctor Geiszler’s.”

Gottlieb’s expression fell again and he looked away, troubled.

“I suppose they are, yes.”

Uneasy silence began to spiral between them again but Mako broke it before it could go on too long, clearing her throat slightly to catch Gottlieb’s attention. He looked at her almost hesitantly.

“Can you tell if he’s…” Mako asked, trailing off and gesturing vaguely. Gottlieb shook his head.

“I’d like to think if something had happened I’d be able to tell,” he said. His voice was very soft. “There’s no clarity. Perhaps it’s just because of the distance between us. He’s hundreds of miles away…and by all means I shouldn’t be able to sense _anything_. Marshall Hansen told me that’s not how Drift bonds typically work.”

He smiled humorlessly and looked down at his bedspread again. He picked aimlessly at the fabric, pulling at loose threads in the seams.

“Our situation has proved distinctly outside the norm several times over,” he said. “If…if I try. Truly _try_ , just tune out everything around me and focus…I feel it.”

He ran his hand over the back of his head, eyes closing briefly.

“There was a sense of numbness for the longest time. Cold, like…like there was ice walling me off. Now…”

He sighed heavily, giving a tired shrug.

“I’m unsure.”

Mako was quiet, reaching over and taking his hand lightly again as he fidgeted with the loose threads, stopping him from pulling them out and undoing the seam entirely.

“If he hadn’t gone to Pitcairn, we’d all be dead,” Gottlieb said faintly. “Isn’t it strange? All that pain and uncertainty and fear, and in the end…”

He fell silent again and they simply sat together, listening to the music play.

 

\--

 

Raleigh had to stay in the infirmary longer than Mako, but she visited him so long every day after her own discharge she might as well have never left. She sat at his bedside to keep him company, playing game after game of poker and war with him; he was spectacularly bad at bluffing and had over the past three days worked up to owing her over two thousand dollars.

“You know I don’t have this kind of money, right?” he asked after their latest game, sharing what was trying its best to be an edible Salisbury steak and ice cream-shaped scoop of mashed potatoes from his lunch tray.

“I suppose you can pay me back in favors if you have to,” she said. “I hate doing the requisition paperwork, you could do that instead.”

“Ohh. Y’know, I think I can hawk a kidney and pay you off before the interest builds up too bad.”

“You’d rather sell an organ than fill out requisition orders?”

Raleigh gave a mild shrug.

“You gotta fill them out in triplicate. My soul starts dying halfway through the first copy.”

Mako rolled her eyes tolerantly, taking the lunch tray for herself and sitting back with it.

“So now you’re gonna steal from an invalid. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Should have thought about that before you bet so recklessly.”

“Yeah, yeah. Lesson learned,” Raleigh said, trying to shuffle the deck one-handed. His fractured shoulder pained him incessantly but he was putting up with it without complaint, reasoning that he could easily have been killed about ten different ways when Chrome fell. Better injured than in the ground.

Gottlieb had been discharged after several days of close observation. Whatever the medical staff had been looking to find, he didn’t exhibit; he had been beyond enthusiastic to get the all-clear to leave.  He had been holed up in the lab since then, though he still dropped by once a day to visit with Raleigh. He was a passive observer to their card games and was oftentimes absorbed in a book, but neither of them minded his quiet presence. It was very evident that he needed the company.

Mako finished off the steak with a controlled grimace, nose wrinkling and pushing the tray back to Raleigh.

“I miss Hong Kong. You could trust the steak to actually be cow.”

“Yeah. This _does_ have kind of a mystery meat tang to it, doesn’t it…”

He prodded the scraps with his fork and gave a mock shudder, tackling the overcooked peas instead and eating the mess with dutiful resignation.

“You seen Doctor Gottlieb at all today?”

“No…it is a little unusual. He’s usually here by now.”

“You don’t think…”

Mako looked up at him, feeling an echo of the concern showing so plainly on his face.

“I don’t know. We haven’t heard anything for almost a week now. Maybe there’s finally news.”

“Week’s an awfully long time to go without hearing anything,” Raleigh said softly. “Maybe they were trying to figure out the best way to break news gently.”

“Tendo would not sit quietly on bad news. We would know by now if there was something wrong,” Mako said, trying to ignore the note of uncertainty in her own voice. “They are under communication blackout conditions. Maybe this was the first time they could get through.”

Raleigh nodded in agreement, though the concern only deepened in his expression. Mako gave a soft sigh and took the cards from him, shuffling the deck and cutting it.

“Place your bet.”

“Immortal soul and three butterscotches.”

“Where do you even keep _finding_ those hard candies…”

Several hours had passed and they were halfway through their fourth game when Raleigh’s curtain was sharply drawn back. Raleigh and Mako both jolted, staring at Gottlieb in surprise.

“Doctor Gottlieb?” Mako asked. He looked to her, breathing hard; he must have run as best he was able all the way from the lab. She stood and pushed him down into her chair, the concern spiking. “Doctor Gottlieb, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at her again silently for a moment, and his voice cracked when he could finally speak.

“I received word from Pitcairn.”


	40. Chapter 40

 

 

            Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the foyer and painted Kaiceph’s skull in shades of gold. It loomed in its enormous display case; the horns had been broken in the nuclear assault that had killed it, its lower jaw smashed and most of its teeth knocked out. It seemed to stare eyelessly down at Lightcap and even now, years dead and gone, it still managed to give her a sense of unease. She looked at the skull for a few moments, studying the splotches of ashen grey where Kaiceph had been scorched right down to the bone.

            “You’re impossible to keep track of, you know. I’ve been looking for you for over an hour.”

            Tracing his fingers lightly over the brass plaque bolted to the display case that sported Kaiceph’s name, Newt glanced over at Lightcap with a quietly apologetic smile.

            “Just wanted to stretch my legs for a bit. I was going stir crazy in the med wing.”

            “You were in there for a reason,” Lightcap said patiently, giving Newt’s shoulder a shove. He turned with the push easily though his balance seemed weak, and he leaned against the case for a moment for support.

            “And then I got better. No one stopped me when I walked out.”

            “Mmhm. I’m sure there was no sneaking away and ducking past medical staff involved at all.”

            Newt laughed, pushing away gently from the display case. Lightcap looped her arm through his and guided him to one of the benches lining the walls around the foyer, settling down beside him. They sat together and studied Kaiceph’s profile in the case. It looked almost dragon-like, its mouth eternally hanging open in a howl.

            “Is Tendo mad I took off?”

            “He’s still asleep, lucky for you. He was awake almost three days.”

            “Mm… _you_ seem nice and well-rested, though. No weeping by my bedside?”

            Lightcap grinned, rolling her eyes.

            “Oh, no. Spent most of my time in the chapel praying for a miracle.”

            Newt snorted, slouching against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He seemed to be looking past the skull into some middle distance, his expression shifting subtly. Lightcap watched him and he didn’t seem aware of her scrutiny until she put a hand on his shoulder; he smiled again, though he didn’t look at her.

            “I’m okay.”

            Lightcap’s grip on his shoulder tightened slightly and he glanced over at her. His left eye was a pool of red; the original ring of blood around his iris had since expanded all through the sclera. Lightcap touched his face lightly, examining the damage.

            “They tested your vision, right?”

            “Couple times. It kind of aches but there’s no lasting damage, just looks freaky as hell. They said it’ll clear up in a couple weeks or so.”

            “Good. Took a peek through your charts earlier…everything else turned up clean. The way your nose was bleeding I was sure you’d had an aneurysm.”

            Newt laughed with genuine amusement.

            “Not gonna miss those, I’ll tell you that much. I’m surprised I have any blood left in me at all.”

            “You _did_ develop a nasty habit of leaking like a sieve.”

            The sunlight crept slowly across the foyer floor and over Kaiceph’s ruined skull as the day wound down. A comfortable quiet fell between them, broken only as the sun finally began to sink out of sight and leave the room in dimming shades of orange and gold.

            “You know, I never asked where Lieutenant D’onofrio was in all this.”

            Lightcap smiled faintly, slouching against the wall with Newt and looking out the broad windows to the neatly trimmed lawns and faint strip of sea beyond.

            “Anchorage. We were both there when the Jaeger program was first started. We were making it the main base of operations for training and production again before I got tapped to come here. Sergio stayed behind to oversee the facility.”

            The smile grew and Lightcap nudged Newt with her elbow.

            “And it’s _Marshall_ D’onofrio these days.”

            “Ahh. Pardon my manners. I haven’t been in the loop for awhile.”

            “Too far removed from the comings and goings of the peons to pay attention?”

            Newt gave a snorting laugh, elbowing Lightcap right back.

            “Holy shit. You sound exactly like Hermann sometimes, it’s uncanny.”

            “I’m taking that as a compliment,” Lightcap said. Newt nodded briefly.

            “You should. It is.”

            “Have you gotten to talk to him at all yet?”  
            Newt shook his head, sighing softly.

            “Not for lack of trying. Lines are tied up, connections are too screwy, million stupid different things. I sent him a couple emails but they bounce back. Apparently that server room fire knocked the entire ‘dome out of commission computer-wise…it’s a miracle you managed to contact the Marshall at all.”

            “He was happy to hear you were okay,” Lightcap said. “He was asking to talk to you, but you’d only just woken up.”

            “Yeah. Still too out of it,” Newt murmured. He touched just under his left eye lightly, looking thoughtful. “Don’t really remember anything before two days ago. That happened after Scunner died. Brain just kind of trying to paste itself back together, I mean. First couple days after that whole mess, it was like a fever dream…”

            His gaze dropped to the floor, studying the parquet pattern. He fell silent for a few minutes and Lightcap waited patiently, watching the display case as the overhead lights clicked on to replace the faded sunlight. Several of the lamps had burnt out, their bulbs shattered and still needing replacement. Newt slowly took her hand and held it loosely as though afraid she would pull away from him. She squeezed it, leaning against him.

            “Were you looking for me for a reason?” he asked eventually.  

            “Yes, actually…wanted to tell you the ferry’s due back in a couple days from the mainland. Most air travel’s still restricted but military and Corps have priority. Got the transfer order from Hansen this morning, too…time to get out of Dodge.”

            “Are you coming with us?”

            Lightcap nodded.

            “I’ll tag along to Los Angeles. Never been there before.”

            “What about Anchorage?”

            “That’ll be the final destination. You might be coming up that way too, you know. You and Doctor Gottlieb both.”

            “I think I’d like that,” Newt said. “Hansen said he was going to be stationed up there about a…”

            He started to laugh softly, shaking his head. Lightcap watched him and held onto his hand securely as he laughed, his eyes tearing up.

            “About a month ago. He told me a month ago. It feels like a century’s gone by.”

            “It does, doesn’t it?” Lightcap said. “A century inside weeks…millennia squeezed into ten years.”

            Newt rested his head back against the wall, looking upwards to the ceiling. He no longer carried the strained, exhausted expression he’d worn since Lightcap had first met him, as though he was steps away from falling apart. Night had fallen and the sky outside was dusted with stars when Newt spoke again.

            “I want to go home.”

            Lightcap nodded slightly and slid her arm around his shoulders.

            “So let’s get going.”

 

\--

 

            Newt wasn’t sorry to see Pitcairn disappear out of sight as they rode the ferry back towards the mainland. He’d said his goodbyes to the friends he’d made briefly –even now, none of them had any idea what he’d been involved in with the Drift experiment or Meathead’s brain specimen. In truth most of them hadn’t even noticed he was gone, thinking he was simply busy with his own work in the facility. It wasn’t so bad to be forgotten, honestly. He’d had his fill in Hong Kong of being the reviled center of attention.

            He had toyed briefly with the idea of going into the lab one last time, but in the end decided against it. The brain specimen was gone and locked away in a freezer in one of the storage wings, waiting to be dissected and cataloged. It would have been a bit superfluous to go see it anyway. It wasn’t as though Meathead and the hive were dead.

            Newt looked out the window at the choppy sea, small whitecaps churning over the surface and making the ferry rock. Tendo was huddled next to him looking rather nauseous, wincing every time a wave slapped against the boat’s hull.

            “Dude, you _worked_ on a ferry. How can you be getting seasick?”

            “Because I took Dramamine before every shift, smartass,” Tendo muttered. “Lemme suffer in silence, okay?”

            “You gonna spew if you keep talking?”

            “Possibly.”

            “Newt, stop picking on him,” Lightcap said across the aisle, not looking up from her book. “He’s in a delicate state.”

            Tendo gave an irritated growl, pushing the seat back as far as it would go and dragging his jacket over his face.

            “I hate both of you.”

            Newt chuckled, looking back out to the water. He watched how light played on the waves; the sun’s reflection was shattered across the sea, a thousand different pieces glimmering so brightly it almost hurt to look at it. Squinting against the light, he reached over and tugged at Tendo’s jacket.

            “Angels.”

            Tendo made a confused sound, pulling the jacket away from his face and staring narrowly at Newt.

            “Huh?”

            “ _Angels_.”

            Tendo sat up, starting to look concerned.

            “What…what about them?”

            Newt finally looked over at him, grinning slightly.

            “You said you were gonna drag me to a baseball game, remember? Told me to pick a team. You like the Angels, right? The Los Angeles team?”

            “I can’t believe you even remember that,” Tendo said. Newt snorted.

            “No backing out of it, man. I want to go.”

            Tendo nodded slowly, smiling a little.

            “Alright then. Angels it is.”

            The rest of the trip back to the mainland was quiet; Newt’s usual mile-a-minute chattiness, after all, had been gone for a very long time. He could easily pinpoint the loss of it to the week Scunner decided to dredge itself up from the bottom of the ocean and come to visit him. His thoughts dwelled reflectively on the dying kaiju. It had hated so deeply and so fiercely it had seemed to burn with it, clinging onto Newt to keep itself sane but constantly fighting against the urge to rip him apart inside its mind. He thought about the other aspects that had been inside it; Mutavore, Otachi, Slattern….all of them, dozens upon dozens of prisoners trapped within a single facet of a lost whole.

            He realized he hadn’t seen Meathead in that version of the hivemind. He wondered how different the separate versions of it would have been; the original locked away eight years inside itself compared to the self cleaved away inside the living hive. Newt wondered if he would have met another version of it inside the sample he’d gotten from Mutavore, if he hadn’t burnt it out so quickly…or inside Otachi’s newborn. What would they have been like? Childlike and curious like the one he’d known so well, or something else entirely?

            What was the hive he’d helped create doing now, free and untroubled by the Precursors?

            Newt watched the sea contemplatively, and before he realized time had passed at all the ferry had pulled up to the dock. Tendo was looking positively grey in the face by the time they disembarked, Lightcap lending a sympathetic shoulder for him to lean on so he wouldn’t topple over.

            “Fuckin’ lightweight,” Newt said, grinning. Tendo gave him a dirty look.

            “I will puke on everything you love, Geiszler. Leave me be.”

            “Sorry, sorry…”

            The car ride to the airport was as much of a blur as the ferry had been; the transfer orders Herc had sent stated they were to be transported out of New Zealand to the United States immediately, no exceptions. The prospect of a twelve hour flight back overseas didn’t trouble Newt as much as he expected, and he found himself enjoying the takeoff rather than cringing in banked anxiety as the world fell away below them.

 He settled back comfortably and pulled out the book Gottlieb had given him, flicking through the pages and trying to remember where he’d left off in the story. Lightcap sat beside him; Tendo had taken an entire row of seats for himself to lay down and nurse his lingering seasickness, wrapped up in a thick blanket like a cocoon.

“What are you reading?”

“Hermann gave it to me,” Newt said, passing the book over to her. “Big collection of stories. It’s pretty good.”

“Of course you’re reading Lovecraft,” Lightcap said dryly. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, blame Hermann for this, not me,” Newt said, laughing. Lightcap studied the title emblazoned on the page, then shook her head and handed the book back in amusement.

“Call me old fashioned, but a story called _At the Mountains of Madness_ doesn’t strike me as light, feel-good reading.”

“Not even remotely. Still good, though.”

            Lightcap settled back in her seat, closing her eyes and reclining.

            “I think I’ll pass if it’s all the same to you…try to get some sleep before we land. Still have another seven hours after we get off this plane.”

            Newt made a soft, disbelieving sound. Lightcap cracked an eye open and glanced at him; he was looking out the window again, his hands curled tightly around the book.

            “You okay?”

            He nodded faintly, slouching back against the chair and watching low-hanging clouds scudding past below them.

            “Didn’t think I’d make it to the other side of all this shit. Guess I still kind of can’t believe it. Tendo said…”

            He trailed off, looking over at Tendo’s prone, blanket-shrouded form across the aisle.

            “He said I was brain dead.”

            “I’m…not sure _that’s_ what to call it, precisely,” Lightcap murmured. Newt didn’t quite look at her, his grip on the book growing tighter. “One minute you were there and the next the readings just went flat. You and Meathead both, just…gone.”

            “Did I die?”

            “No. You were still breathing when we took you out of that chair.”

            She punched his shoulder lightly.

            “Your plan didn’t include instructions for when to take you out of the Drift, by the way. We left you hooked in as long as we could and all of a sudden you decide to up and disappear into the hive on us.”

            Newt grinned unapologetically, his vise-like grip on the book finally relaxing.

            “Hey, I told you it was a shitty idea from the _start_ , okay?”

            “And it worked,” Lightcap said. Newt nodded slowly and looked down at his book. His fingers idly traced the cover’s edges, studying the bumpy texture of the old leather.

            “It did, didn’t it,” he said. He glanced over at Lightcap in amusement. “You think anyone’ll believe me when I tell them how we did it?”

            Lightcap shrugged easily, settling back against her seat again.

            “Doctor Gottlieb might. You never know.”

            Newt didn’t reply, though he smiled faintly at the thought as he settled down in his seat and started to read.


	41. Chapter 41

 

            It was the sudden lack of a hum from the plane’s engine that woke Newt up. He blinked slowly, sitting up in his seat and looking around in brief disorientation. Where the hell was he? He clearly recalled the one that had taken them out from New Zealand back to Hong Kong, but then the jetlag had begun to set in and everything turned into a vague blur of cars and planes. He blinked again very blearily, noticing a blanket-covered lump sitting next to him. He tugged it back and Lightcap immediately winced as sunlight streaming in from the window hit her in the face, swatting at the air as though trying to ward it off.

            “Go _away_.”

            “We’ve landed.”

            There was a sharp intake of breath on his other side and Newt looked over to find Tendo sitting up gingerly, wincing as he straightened out for the first time in hours.

            “Please tell me we’re not getting onto another connecting flight,” he muttered. “Three is enough for me.”

            “What, you didn’t enjoy being ping-ponged all over the fucking continent?” Newt asked, rubbing at his eyes and adjusting his glasses sourly. Civilian air travel was still in a state of either severe disarray or outright suspension, but the impression that that would mean clear and easy travel for Corps flights had been quickly proven wrong.

            “Where did this one even take us?” Lightcap asked, throwing the blanket off irritably. Newt shrugged.

            “Couldn’t tell you. We might be in Oahu…”

            “We better not be,” Tendo said, scowling. “Gonna punch a pilot in the face if we get thrown onto another flight.”

            “Any pilot at all, or are you looking for specifics?”

            “Anyone’ll do. Just go right up to anyone in a captain’s uniform and _pow._ Right in the mouth.”  
            “Yeah, that’ll teach ‘em,” Newt said dryly, getting up and shuffling past Lightcap into the aisle. He felt sore and wrung out all over, too much travel and too much sleep combining to make him feel like absolute shit. It didn’t surprise him that all three of them had promptly passed out on the flight and slept all the way to through the landing. He’d had enough of air travel at this point to last several lifetimes over. He leaned over and peered out one of the windows, squinting.

            “I have no idea where the hell we are.”

            The door to the cockpit opened and the pilot came out; Newt immediately resented him in principle for looking well rested and alert, but tried not to let it show.

            “ _Please_ tell me we’re in California.”

            The pilot nodded, looking at Tendo and Lightcap in brief confusion as they both let out almost painful sighs and groans of relief.

            “Landed about ten minutes ago sir,” he said, looking back to Newt. “I did announce it when we were landing…”

            “Yeah, missed it. So are we good? Can we get off now please? I’ll literally give you fifty bucks _right now_ to open that door and let us off.”

            The pilot looked at the three of them oddly, backing away a bit and opening the plane door without comment. The first step onto solid ground and into the unforgiving heat and humidity felt like a breath of life, and Newt stood there for a moment with his eyes closed and face turned up towards the sun.

            “You havin’ a moment there, Doctor Geiszler?” Tendo asked. Newt nodded, arms raised towards the sky.

            “No more boats, no more planes, and I pray to whatever freakin’ god is listening it’s gonna be one short car ride,” he said. Lightcap sighed very heavily beside him.

            “No cars waiting for us. How do you feel about helicopters?”

            Newt made a pained sound, his arms dropping and head hanging.

            “I hate you.”

            “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

            “C’mon, gigantic military choppers are fun,” Tendo said with dull sarcasm, watching the Corps pilot waving them over to the waiting helicopter. “Almost there.”

            Newt’s eyes flicked open and he felt a jab of sudden nervousness. It showed so plainly on his face Tendo’s jetlag-induced belligerence banked. He put an arm around Newt’s shoulders, giving him a gentle shake.

            “S’matter? We’re in the last stretch, man. We’re done.”

            “I know,” Newt said uneasily. He rubbed gingerly at his left eye, the slight pressure enough to set it to aching again. “I know. I just…”

            “He’s probably dyin’ to see you,” Tendo said in an undertone. “You know that, right? He’s not gonna be pissed at you over anything.”

            “He might be. I did almost kill myself about five times over.”

            “Yeah, well. You didn’t. You skirted it pretty close a couple times but you made it out okay in the end.”

            “I did,” Newt said. “I just…I don’t know. Hansen and all them, everybody’s gonna know at this point right?”

            “You didn’t exactly fill out a proper report about what happened…but I think everyone knows the gist by now,” Tendo said. He gave Newt another shake, reaching up and tousling his already-mussed hair until it stood on end. “It’s going to be fine.”

            “I know. I know…”

            The nervousness remained as they boarded the helicopter. It settled in Newt’s stomach like a smoldering ember and transmuted slowly into a growing anxiety. What would happen when they arrived at the Shatterdome? Would they be glad to see him…or would it be Hong Kong all over again? Isolated, ostracized, treated as something _other_ than the rest of them? Newt didn’t think he could handle that kind of reaction again. To see distrust and uncertainty in people that had used to trust him. Dealing with it in Hong Kong had been bad enough, but he’d had support from the people who understood that what had happened to him hadn’t changed him into a monster.

            Now, though…now he wasn’t sure. He brushed a hand against the back of his head, fingers searching out the spot at the base of his skull. There was no sensation of painful, prickling ice. He closed his eyes and concentrated but there was no enveloping sense of pressure, no foreign presence observing him. He refused to let himself feel guilty for missing Meathead – he and the hive had come to a very clear and equal understanding of each other. He had been offered a choice and Newt felt he had made the right one – the kaiju were gone from him like they had never been there at all, wiping away the clinging remains of the dead and pulling free of him. He was alone in his head and the quiet was a blessing.

            He fidgeted in his seat, chewing absently on his fingernails and trying not to work himself up into an anxiety attack. No one was going to treat him differently. They weren’t going to look at him and see him as a freak or a threat. They were his friends, his peers…his family. The Corps was his home and they weren’t going to turn him away.

            Lightcap reached over and took his hand as his teeth skidded over his nails. Newt finally opened his eyes, looking at her. The whirr of the helicopter drowned out her words but Newt understood what she was mouthing to him.

            _It’s going to be alright._

            Newt nodded, not bothering to shout back over the noise. He held onto Lightcap’s hand until the Shatterdome came into sight; the ember burning in him ignited and he was left briefly breathless and scared. He wanted to go home but the sudden awful certainty that he would be shunned had rooted itself firmly in his mind. The helicopter landed smoothly, the noise dying away. Newt fumbled at the seatbelt, fingers gone nerveless. He was scared. God, he was honestly _frightened._ Would the Marshall greet him or have him escorted into the Shatterdome in restraints? Would anyone trust him anymore or had he gone too far over the line?

            “Newt,” Tendo said softly. Newt jolted, looking up at him with wide eyes. Tendo helped undo the seatbelt straps and offered his hand; Newt took it and let Tendo pull him out of the seat, catching him as his balance briefly faltered and standing him upright. “They’re out there. They’re waiting for us.”

            Newt licked his lips, his mouth bone dry and his breath starting to rasp in his throat.

            “I can’t. I can’t…no,” he said, voice cracking. “ _No_. I don’t want to see them. They won’t trust me anymore.”

            “Why not? Why wouldn’t they?”

            Newt shook his head, going very pale as the anxiety burned through him. He wished he was still on a plane far away, unreachable and isolated.

            “They’ll think there’s something wrong with me. _Look_ at me. I’m a wreck.”

            “Battle scars. It means you survived. Not that there’s something wrong with you,” Tendo said. Newt stared at him uncertainly, fingertips tracing beneath his left eye.

            “What if he doesn’t trust me anymore?” he asked. Tendo smiled slightly, pointing towards the small window. Newt glanced out it, squinting. Several figures were waiting a short distance from the heli-pad; the Marshall, what could only be Mako and Raleigh…and Gottlieb, a few feet off to the side and watching the helicopter fixedly.

            “I think you’re gonna be fine,” Tendo said gently. The door opened, stairs leading outside to the heli-pad waiting. Lightcap stood by the door and looked back at them patiently, waving Newt forward. He hesitated for a long moment, eyes squeezing shut.

 _Don’t let them look at me like I’m a monster._ _Cut me a break. Please._

He was walking out of the helicopter and down the stairs before he really understood what he what he was doing. His heart pounded in his chest and he stepped off the stairs tentatively, looking up and squinting in the bright sunlight. They were all approaching, but Gottlieb was marching quickest towards the helicopter. Newt started to walk towards him but hesitated; Gottlieb’s expression was alarming, his mouth pressed tightly shut and brows deeply furrowed. He looked angry. He looked _furious._

Newt took a step back, hands rising almost defensively. Gottlieb’s cane rapped sharply against the tarmac and color was rising in his face, and the closer he got the angrier he seemed. He stopped just short of Newt, staring at him. Newt swallowed hard and tried to find some hint of relief or welcome in Gottlieb’s face but he couldn’t see anything – his emotions felt suddenly jumbled, turning and twisting through him wildly.

“Hey…uh. Hey, Hermann,” he said uncertainly. Gottlieb drew in a sudden sharp breath and the jumbled sensation intensified, ringing through Newt’s mind. “I’m-”          

Gottlieb’s angry expression collapsed, the tears he’d been trying to force away standing in his eyes. He took a step forward to close the short distance between them and threw his arms around Newt in a hug so tight it squeezed the breath out of him. Newt stood rooted to the spot, relief racing through him as the anxiety extinguished and the torrent of confused emotions settled.

“You idiot,” Gottlieb said, voice hardly above a whisper. Newt wheezed and the crushing hug loosened slightly. “You wretched, kaiju-loving fool.”

He sucked in another sharp breath, trying to calm himself down. Newt hugged him back and his vision blurred, eyes burning.

“C’mon, man. You’re not really mad at me, are you?” he asked. Gottlieb nodded jerkily, refusing to let him go.

“Furious. Absolutely livid.”

“I’m sorry,” Newt said. Gottlieb’s shoulders shook and he made an odd sound struggling to be a laugh. “I _am_. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Worried,” Gottlieb said softly, pulling away and falling back a step. His head bowed briefly and he wiped at his face, his other hand clutching the head of his cane so tightly his knuckles had gone white. “ _Worried?_ You troglodyte, I ought to…”

He trailed off, starting to laugh and still wiping at his face.

“Pardon me,” he said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be –this is ridiculous, I’m sorry Newton I just-”

“I really missed you too,” Newt said. Gottlieb looked up and studied him for a long moment. His gaze lingered on Newt’s injured eye, his wrinkled clothes and the two days worth of stubble he’d accrued on his face. Newt shrugged almost nonchalantly, grinning. “Don’t even say it, alright? I know I look like shit.”

“Nothing a good jaunt into decontamination wouldn’t fix,” Gottlieb said. Newt gave a startled bark of laughter, shoving Gottlieb’s shoulder. “It’s true. It might even help with the odor.”

“ _Odor?_ Excuse me? Who here looks like they just rolled off a freaking morgue slab? When was the last time you even ate anything, you’re a scarecrow!”

“Oh, I’m _fully_ aware of how poorly I’m looking. But if we’re addressing that who exactly is the one who _put_ me in this position? I’ve had more than a few infirmary stays in the past weeks.”

“Occupational risk,” Newt said easily. Gottlieb snorted and rolled his eyes, wiping uselessly at his face again. “Hey, dude. Can’t use any of the weirdness against me. You knew what you were getting into when you Drifted with me, okay?”

“I assure you, I absolutely did not,” Gottlieb said. Newt spluttered, ducking his head down and laughing. He pressed a hand to his eyes and tears pooled against his palm, and he had to take a few deep breaths to get himself together again. Resting in the darkness he sensed something in his head; something alive and bright, familiar and yet utterly foreign. His hand dropped away from his face and he looked at Gottlieb with a deeply startled expression; the kaiju bonds, living and dead, had smothered the Drift bond he had with Gottlieb for so long he had no idea what it even felt like.

Gottlieb watched him with a knowing look, his mouth quirked into a faint smile.

“There you are,” he said. He touched the back of his head lightly. “And here I am. Peculiar, isn’t it?”

Newt nodded slowly.  
            “I’m used to it hurting,” he said. “So that’s what a normal one feels like. Nice change.”

“Perhaps. At the very least, now you can irritate me on a more profound level,” Gottlieb said mildly. “What a joy for both of us.”

Newt shoved his shoulder again and Gottlieb’s smile grew, his expression amused. Newt glanced over his shoulder and found Tendo and Lightcap standing off in the background, with the Marshall, Mako and Raleigh waiting beside them. He waved.

“Hey, guys…”

Gottlieb stuck to Newt’s side like a second shadow as he talked to the pilots and Herc. He hugged Mako and Raleigh both, very carefully and mindful of their injuries. Max had followed Herc to the heli-pad and Newt knelt to greet him enthusiastically, uncaring of the foaming spit the bulldog got over his hands and shirt. He looked up at Herc and found the Marshall regarding him quietly.

“Doctor Geiszler,” he said. “Glad to see you in one piece.”

“More or less, sir.”

Herc watched him for a long moment, speculative and thoughtful. Newt scratched Max’s head and ruffled his ears as he waited through the observation, wondering what the Marshall was thinking.

“I’m interested in reading your report once you finish it up,” Herc said finally. “Doctor Lightcap gave me the highlights but…I’m very curious to see it from your perspective.”

“If you’ve got a couple hours later on sir, I can tell you then,” Newt said. He wiped his hands off on his rather dingy t-shirt, standing up.

“I think I can free up the time,” Herc said. He smiled unexpectedly, putting his hand on Newt’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

            The group started back towards the Shatterdome, still talking amongst themselves. Tendo hung towards the back dragging with exhaustion, though he straightened to attention as Herc pulled him aside.

            “I’ve got something I need to ask of you,” Herc said. Tendo gaped at him; surely the Marshall couldn’t want him in LOCCENT so soon.

            “Sir, with all due respect-” he began. Herc held his hand up and he fell silent, waiting until Newt, Gottlieb and the others had disappeared inside before continuing.

            “Trust me, this is the last thing I want to do to you right now. And afterwards you’re free to as much time off as you want,” he said. “But…frankly? I don’t know what else to _do_ with her.”

            Tendo stared at him blankly, his exhaustion slowly replaced with confusion.

            “Sir?”

            Herc sighed, shaking his head as he walked into the Shatterdome, waving Tendo along to follow him.

            “Come with me. She said she wanted to talk to you.”

 

\--

 

            “Liang Xue Shé.”

            Liang’s eyes sprang open and she sat up in her bed, staring at Tendo as he entered her room. He watched her for a moment and then sat down at the small table, the chair’s legs scraping against the cement floor. He placed a thick manila folder on the tabletop and flicked through it. He studied the falsified personnel record Liang had used to get into the Shatterdome, eyes narrowing slightly.

            “Liang Xue Shé _,”_ he repeated, drawing out each word slowly. He looked up at her and she held his gaze unflinching. “ _Cold blooded snake._ That's cute."

            “I thought it was funny,” Liang said softly. She slid off the bed slowly, adjusting her coveralls as she sat down opposite of him. “You always _said_ I was a snake.”

            “Private joke for two,” Tendo said. He put the record back into the folder and closed it, pushing it between them. “Marshall told me some interesting things on the way up here.”

            “Nothing good, I’m sure.”

            “He’s not sure what to make of you,” Tendo said flatly. “You came here to spy on us?”

            “Hannibal doesn’t like being ignored,” Liang said. She leaned forward and took the folder, though she didn’t open it. “Rather petty, isn’t it?”

            “Not the word I’d use for it.”

            “Pointless, then,” Liang said. She sat back and glanced up at Tendo; his expression was masklike. “I was supposed to be his ace in the hole. His way of manipulating Hansen. But in the end…”

            She shrugged and fell silent. Tendo sighed, rubbing at his eyes as though trying to drive back a headache. The silence that spiraled between them was unpleasant but neither seemed willing to break it. They sat there for several minutes before Tendo finally spoke, the soft question seeming to echo too loudly in the room.

            “Why?”

            She shrugged again and Tendo leaned forward, his expression twisting.

            “No. You don’t get to play games now. _Why?_ ”

            “Because I could,” she said. “Because I found Doctor Gottlieb seizing on the floor and didn’t want to leave him to die. Because I found him _again_ struggling to move and dragged him by the scruff of his neck to LOCCENT so we could all watch the world end together.”

            She looked up at him, color rising slightly in her face.

            “And it _was_ ending. So maybe I wanted to go out on a good note. I told Hansen, and I’ll tell you. I could have done a lot of things on Hannibal’s orders but I _did not do them._ If that’s not good enough for either of you, I don’t know what else to say.”

            “How could you have a change of heart after so long?” Tendo asked. “Why would any of this change what you are?”

            “Maybe because I’m an opportunist,” Liang said dully. “A rat jumping from Chau’s sinking ship.”

            Her expression shuttered and she slouched in her chair, arms crossing almost defensively over her chest. Tendo watched her for a long time and sighed, glancing down at the folder.

            “Doctor Gottlieb was asking after you,” he said eventually. “Said he wanted to thank you.”

            “You should have someone keep an eye on him around the clock. He gets himself into a lot of trouble without even trying.”

            “Both of them do.”

            Liang gave him a narrow look.

            “So Geiszler’s alive?”

            Tendo nodded, taking another long moment to study her. She hadn’t shaved her head in a while and her hair beginning to grow in. She looked very different without her usual scarlet lipstick and smoky eyeshadow – and the smug, cool smirk that had always hovered in her expression. She looked tired and frustrated, and she stared back at Tendo rebelliously.

            “You must be going crazy not being able to smoke,” he said eventually. Her eyebrows shot up and she gave him a baffled look. “You chainsmoked. Last time we talked you kept blowing it in my face.”

            “I did, didn’t I,” she said. She smiled faintly though she looked uncomfortable. “I knew it bothered you. You were always wearing those nicotine patches, I thought it was funny.”

            “Like waving bread in front of a starving man,” Tendo said dryly. Liang laughed and she seemed surprised at herself, looking away from him again.

            “I quit,” she said. “Got tired of it.”

            Her eyes skipped around the room, finally settling for good down on her lap, studying her hands as they knotted tightly together. Tendo nodded again slightly.

            “Why did you want to talk to me?”

            “Because I wanted to see you,” she said. Her posture stiffened and she held her head up, her expression set. “I probably won’t again after this.”

            “Going somewhere?”

            “Military doesn’t take kindly to spies within the ranks. The Corps doesn’t strike me as a forgiving sort.”

            “Usually isn’t, no. But sometimes circumstances and actions have to be taken into account.”

            Liang gave him another baffled look, head tilting slightly to the side.

            “Why?” she asked. Tendo mimicked her shrug.

            “Because I can,” he said. “But I’m asking a favor in return.”

            “I’m not going to fall over myself in gratitude to you,” Liang said, voice icy and soft. “If your idea of clemency is me trading one taskmaster for another, don’t even bother.”

            “That’s why I’m asking a favor, not demanding a trade,” Tendo countered. “Marshall Hansen said you’re Chau’s lieutenant. Right? You know the ins and outs of his operation and everyone he’s in contact with.”

            She nodded, the sudden hardness in her expression fading slowly.

            “His little black book has been in _my_ pocket for several years now,” she said. She leaned forward, a faint lively spark in her eyes. “What is it you’re looking for, Mister Choi?”

            “A connection we can trust,” Tendo said, faintly stressing the word. “The UN has our backs now while we restart the Jaeger program, but an ally in every corner means we have more people to count on if the deck’s stacked against us. And that’s happened far too often.”

            “You think there’ll be another war?”

            “I don’t know. None of us do. But it sure as hell doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

            Liang made a soft sound, looking thoughtful.

            “The kaiju…”

            “Probably won’t be the thing they send if the Precursors ever get a second wind. Newt made pretty sure of that.”

            “I watched them fight,” Liang said, voice distant. “I watched Spindle guard what was left of Chrome Brutus…I watched it walk away. The Breach in the Sonoran was very interesting, you know. It hung in midair almost a hundred feet above the ground…there was nothing below it. Spindle climbed into a crack in the world and disappeared.”

            She laughed faintly.

            “How did he do it?”

            “Asked nicely, I think.”

            Liang snickered and Tendo smiled in dour amusement. She watched him and he tolerated it patiently, knowing how tired and disheveled he looked.

            “He may come looking for me, you know,” she said. Tendo nodded.

            “You can come back here if he does.”

            “Asylum?”

            “Looking out for valuable assets.”

            “Ahh. Is that all I am to you?”

            Tendo sighed.

            “I don’t know what else you are. I don’t even know your real name. I’m starting to think you don’t know it yourself.”

            “My name is Fang.”

            Tendo gave her an exasperated look.

            “What, as in…” he said, trailing off and hooking his fingers in front of his mouth, miming teeth. She snorted.

            “No special meaning. It’s just my name.”

            She considered for a moment.

            “I’ve gotten used to _Liang,_ though. _Fang_ worked for Chau.”

            “Gonna play that snake analogy out all the way, huh?” Tendo said wryly. “Shedding your skin and starting fresh?”

            Liang shrugged carelessly.

            “Is that a bad thing?”

            “I’ll be honest, I really don’t know.” He paused for a moment, then pushed away from the table and stood. Liang stood as well, eyes flicking towards the door.

            “Am I free to go?” she asked quietly. Tendo stared down at the folder on the table, weighing the question. He nodded.

            “Don’t make me regret it, Liang,” he said. “We need people on our side. I want to believe you are.”

            She walked past him and pushed the door open; the guard that had been posted outside was gone and the corridor was empty. Tendo followed her out and pointed down the corridor towards the left.

            “Marshall’s in LOCCENT. He wants to talk to you before you go,” he said. “Contact information. That kind of thing.”

            She straightened her coveralls again, picking a bit of lint off her shoulder.

            “Alright. I suppose I will be seeing you around more often than you’d like, Mister Choi.”

            His hand rested on her shoulder as she turned away from him, and she looked back in confusion. He studied her for a moment and then leaned towards her, his lips brushing against her cheek. She stared at him, stock still and eyes widening briefly.

            “Thank you for helping my friend,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you around, Miss Shé.”

            She caught him by the collar and pulled him forward again, and her kiss lingered much longer. She said nothing as they broke apart, merely smiling at the faintly flustered look on his face. She turned away and walked down the hall and Tendo watched her go, disappearing down the hall towards LOCCENT and out of sight.


	42. Chapter 42

 

           

            There was a sound of argument carrying out of the lab. Herc stopped just outside the door and sighed, smiling in mild amusement. He had decided to give Newt a few days to settle into the new Shatterdome space before grilling him for information, and the process had _seemed_ to have been going smoothly. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Newt and Gottlieb would so quickly fall back into old habits; he leaned against the door, eavesdropping.

            “-look, I’m just saying that all my clothes being missing is kind of suspect. I don’t blame you _per say_ , it’s just-”

            “If I wanted to finally dispose of the goodwill rejects you call clothes I wouldn’t have been sneaking behind your back to do it. I would have set them afire right in front of you. I’ve been planning to do that for _years_.”

            There was a spluttering laugh and Herc leaned forward slightly, peering inside. Newt was sitting next to Gottlieb at his desk, balancing on the back legs of his chair and watching Gottlieb type up a report. A leather-bound book was open and resting on his chest, his fingers drumming lightly against the cover.

            “You’re going to fall backwards and crack your head open,” Gottlieb said, not looking up from his computer. “Your chair isn’t a toy.”

            “If I had one with wheels I’d be highly inclined to disagree.”

            “Heaven forfend someone give you another proper office chair. What happened to the last one? Can you tell me _precisely_ what happened to it?”

            Newt gave a discreet cough, looking away.

            “It was for science, man.”

            “I see. And how long was your arm in the cast?”

            “Oh, shut up. I only sprained my wrist.”

            Gottlieb gave a laugh and shook his head in what was genuinely attempting to be disapproval. He couldn’t quite manage it, glancing over at Newt with more open warmth than Herc had ever seen him display before. He almost hated to interrupt them but it was a miracle he had managed to wring free time out of his schedule to begin with. He rapped his knuckles against the door and came in; Newt let his chair fall back on all four legs, sliding off it and standing.

            “Hey, Marshall.”

            Gottlieb raised a hand in brief greeting, focusing on his holo-computer screen.

            “Just finishing up the final report for the new weapons system algorithms, sir. It’ll be on your desk within the hour.”

            “Hermann Gottlieb turning in reports late,” Herc said, drawing out the words in slow mock disbelief. “I needed that this morning, you know.”

            Gottlieb pointed accusingly at Newt, who shrugged.

            “Blame _that_ one. He flew into a snit when he couldn’t find any of his clothes and insisted I had to help find them.”

            Herc gave Newt a critical look; he was wearing the same slightly tatty black t-shirt and jeans he’d arrived in several days ago.

            “I’m going to assume you attempted to do laundry at the very least.”

            “ _Attempted_ being the key word,” Gottlieb muttered dryly. Newt shut his book with a snap and raised it as though threatening to hit Gottlieb upside the head with it; all he got for his trouble was an unimpressed glance.

            “Everybody's picking on me,” Newt said, setting the book down on Gottlieb’s desk. “Comb your hair, wash your clothes-”

            “-don’t put things you find on the floor in your mouth, look both ways before you cross the street-”

            “Yes, yes. Thank you, _mother_ ,” Newt said. He turned back to Herc and some of the levity faded, watching the Marshall uncertainly. “So…what’d you need, sir?”

            “Thought you and me could take a walk for a bit,” Herc said. Gottlieb glanced up at him, an almost uneasy expression flicking over his face. “Just gonna borrow him for an hour or so, Hermann.”

            “You sure you’re alright to-?” Gottlieb began, looking to Newt.

            “I’m fine,” Newt said. Gottlieb made a skeptical noise and Newt rolled his eyes, sighing. “Oh my God. I’m _fine._ Cross my heart, okay?”

            “Very well,” Gottlieb said, a shade of his normal irritation in his tone. “Try not to blow anything up while you’re out, alright?”

            Newt snickered and followed Herc out of the lab, walking side by side with him. Herc glanced over his shoulder at Gottlieb as they left; he was watching Newt go as though expecting him to drop dead at any moment. He caught Herc looking and cleared his throat awkwardly, turning his attention back to the holo-display.

            “That must be driving you up the wall,” he said. Newt shrugged again.

            “I’ve been kind of the same way. One too many brushes with death and all.”

            Herc nodded in wry sympathy.

            “Yeah, that’d do it…”

            They fell silent, Newt following Herc as they walked out into the main corridor. They walked past the hall leading to Herc’s office; Newt gave him a puzzled look, pointing towards it as they passed.

            “Can’t stand that closet,” Herc said. “Let’s head outside for a bit.”

            Newt followed Herc through the twisting maze of cement and metal corridors, knowing he would probably never find his way back on his own without a map and stopping at least three times to ask directions. The Los Angeles Shatterdome had been one of the first to be constructed during the fledgling years of the Jaeger program; it had, amoeba-like, absorbed an entire industrial park complex that was repurposed to the Corps’ needs. During the Wall’s heyday of construction, the Shatterdome had been turned into a glorified storage unit; there were still lingering pieces of construction materials shoved into corners and unused rooms.

            “So which Jaeger’s up next for reconstruction?” Newt asked. “Mako mentioned there wasn’t much left of Chrome.”

            “There’s a bare-bones Mark Three out on the floor they’ve been hammering away at,” Herc said. “They only just started working on her when the… _issues_ started.”

            “Issues,” Newt said. “I like that. Makes it sound like less of a catastrophic clusterfu-”

            He caught himself and cleared his throat.

            “I mean. You know what I mean.”

            “I do,” Herc said wryly. “And I wholly agree with the term. That’s exactly what it was.”

            They cut through one last corridor and found themselves going through a side entrance onto the Jaeger bay floor. Newt looked around wide-eyed; the wreck Herc had mentioned was standing on skeletal legs, its arms hanging by its sides and the empty socket where its Conn-Pod had once rested revealing a mess of corrosion and rust inside it. For all the damage and disuse it still had a venerable aura to it, accentuated by the trailing plumes of sparks that fell from its body as mechanic crews tended to it.

            “Wow. Which one is that?”

            “Matador Fury,” Herc said. “Chrome was in worse shape when they dug her up, believe it or not. If Mako could revive that mess, she shouldn’t have much trouble with this one.”

            “No plans for Gipsy Danger the Second though, huh?”

            “Wouldn’t say that. Her arm’s shipping in from Hong Kong in the next couple weeks. We might have a body to reattach it to at some point.”

            Newt smiled, looking over his shoulder at the Jaeger as they passed Matador Fury and went towards the looming bay doors. There were far smaller and less grandiose doors for bay workers to use to get outside, afternoon sunlight and heat flooding inside as Herc pushed it open. Newt squinted and shielded his eyes as they went out, scowling faintly.

            “Still not used to the light of day?”

            “I’m building up a tolerance.”

            Herc snorted, walking out onto the docks and picking a seemingly random path along its edge. Newt walked beside him and they both said nothing for a long, only slightly awkward stretch. The heat was not terribly oppressive, the wind smelling faintly metallic with air pollution as it gusted over them.

            “Can’t wait to get out of here,” Herc said eventually. “I miss Anchorage.”

            “Really?”

            “Mm. You wouldn’t think it, but I liked the weather up there.”

            Newt laughed and Herc glanced at him, shrugging.

            “It’s true. Bracing.”

            “If _bracing_ is the term you wanna use for _cold as fuck_ , then yes, that’s it in a nutshell.”

            “You know most people balk to use that kind of language when talking to a superior, Doctor Geiszler.”

            Newt cleared his throat and looked at the ground, unsure if there was a real reprimand in Herc’s mild tone.

            “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

            Herc laughed softly and Newt looked up at him, the brief flash of worry disappearing. Their path was slow and meandering as they wandered along the dock’s edge, the metallic odor on the wind mixing with the scent of brine. Herc pointed to a fenced off stairwell that lead down to the beach; Newt nodded in silent agreement and waited while Herc unlocked it, following him down the cracked cement stairs and onto the sand. The beach was abandoned; no one in their right minds wanted to be near the ocean anymore. A thick line of waterlogged rubbish and seaweed ran between where the water met the shore as far as the eye could see.

Newt looked out towards the water, overlooking the litter and fixing his gaze on the horizon. His thoughts turned slowly to memories of Hong Kong so many months ago, watching Scunner rise out of the water and struggle towards the dock. He thought about running from a helicopter with Gottlieb in tow, heads aching and senses rattled by the Drift, frantic to reach LOCCENT in time before Striker Eureka and Gipsy Danger made a terrible mistake in the final Breach assault.

            He thought about Trespasser crashing through the Golden Gate Bridge, of Mutavore bulldozing through the Sydney Wall. He thought of Otachi tearing Crimson Typhoon to shreds and Leatherback drowning Cherno Alpha, of Knifehead spearing Gipsy Danger through and ripping her open. He thought of Knifehead taking Yancy Becket from the Conn-Pod and Raleigh finishing the fight on his own, nearly killing himself in the process.

He thought of war and loss. He wondered if there had been Precursors who had seen the invasions as their last hope of survival, acting not out of belligerence but dire, terrible need. He doubted deep inside that every single Precursor had been supportive of the war, just as every single human had not believed in the Jaeger program…or that there was a chance they would survive the invasion. There were no pure absolutes to anything, no true black and white scenarios of good versus evil. There was survival and warfare and resistance, winning and losing.

He wondered how long Earth would have lasted in the Precursor’s locust-like care. Somehow, he thought, for all the trouble taken to win it…they wouldn’t have been able to use it for very long.

            Newt and Herc had gone a good distance along the shore without him realizing it, attention still fixed on the hazy horizon. Herc didn’t seem inclined to interrupt his thoughts and merely walked beside him. He touched Newt’s shoulder eventually and pointed again; they had reached an impassable point on the beach, a jetty sprouting out from the sand and stretching far out into the water to wall off their path. There was a scattering of enormous rocks that had rolled free of the jetty, slowly being swallowed up by the sand. They sat down on a fairly clean one that had disappeared into the ground almost completely, saying nothing to each other and watching the water.

            Herc still didn’t seem as though he was interested in saying anything. He looked over at Newt occasionally but made no move to push him into speaking; he bent down and picked up an old mussel shell, cleaning it off and studying the pearly inner lining, turning it over in the sunlight so the colors shone. The tide had rolled back a good distance from the shoreline before Newt spoke again.

            “I don’t think they’re coming back, sir.”

            Herc glanced over at him.

            “No? We thought that once before.”

            “I know,” Newt said. “But I think we’ve really got it covered this time around.”

            “Somehow I don’t doubt you,” Herc murmured. He turned the mussel shell over slowly in his hands, running his thumb along the ridged edges. “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared just in case. Think of it this way…just because we’ve got stockpiles of warheads doesn’t mean we’re going to use them. The Jaeger program is a similar precaution.”

            “So the Shatterdomes are silos now?”

            “Not quite. It’s not all about warfare now…necessity sparked a lot of advancements we never even dreamed of before the invasion started. There’s time now, time to look towards progressing and not just preserving.”

            “So what are we gonna start doing?” Newt asked, laughing softly. “Heading out into space?”

            “Not out of the question,” Herc replied. Newt’s expression shifted and his eyes widened slightly – the surprise turned to genuine amusement and he laughed again, shaking his head and looking back towards the ocean.

            “Well, _shit,_ sir. Hermann’ll be thrilled. Jaegers on the moon...”

            Herc laughed aloud at that, grinning.

            “Moon, _nothing_. He’ll probably have us out with colonies on Europa by the end of the year.”

            “He might start small. Couple cities on Mars first…mining operations in the asteroid belt. Europa might be a five-year goal kind of thing.”

            “Sounds reasonable.”

            Newt glanced over to find Herc watching him as though he was looking for something; some outward sign of his thoughts or the memories he carried. Newt took the shell out of Herc’s hands and started to fidget with it, studying the cracks and chips closely.

            “Can I ask you something?”

            “You can.”

            There was a brief moment of hesitance, the quiet broken with scattered calls of gulls and the steady roll of waves against the shore.

            “Is it wrong that I didn’t want them all to die?” Newt asked, his voice very quiet. “I watched it. I gave the order to burn them to the ground and it was carried out. I knew it had to be done, but…but part of me didn’t want it to happen.”

            Herc let out a very long, heavy sigh and Newt flinched slightly at the sound of it, wondering if he had said something he shouldn’t have. He had wanted to ask the question of Raleigh as well…but he found he was afraid of what the answer would be.

            “No,” Herc said after a moment’s pregnant pause. “No, Newt. It’s not wrong to feel that way. If you didn’t feel even a small sense of confliction about your actions you’d be no better than they were. You made the right decision. That doesn’t mean you have to be entirely alright with it.”

            “I didn’t get into all this to hurt anybody,” Newt said. “I wanted to help. I mean, at first I thought it was a way for me to…I don’t even know. Make my mark or something. Get a big, important chapter in the history books. Then people kept dying and the kaiju kept coming and it wasn’t about making a mark anymore. Just…trying to understand why it was happening. Why they did what they were doing.”

            “You admired them.”

            “I did,” Newt admitted. “I do. They’re something beyond anything we’ve ever seen. I wanted to understand what they are.”

            Herc gave a dry laugh and Newt smiled ruefully.

            “You sure as hell do now, don’t you?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            The afternoon heat was beginning to dwindle, the wind sighing off the ocean cool and smelling heavily of seaweed. Herc shifted, his back stiff from sitting on the rock for so long, and after a moment he stood. He rolled his shoulders and favored one arm as he stretched.

            “Still bothering you?” Newt asked.

            “Busted arms are never quite the same even after they heal,” Herc said. “Didn’t do myself any favors ditching the sling early, either.”

            He walked a short ways away, nudging at the piles of seaweed and rubbish with the toe of his shoe. Several crabs fled out from under it and scuttled towards the water, disappearing swiftly out of sight.

            “Can’t believe anything can even survive in there anymore,” he said. “You know, the water’s _saturated_ with Blue in the original Breach zone. Lake’s worth of blood spilled between Raiju, Slattern and…”

            “Scunner,” Newt supplied, smiling at Herc’s hesitance. “It’s okay to say the name.”

            “Wasn’t sure if it was still sensitive territory.”

            “I’ve had time to work through the sheer unmitigated mindfuck factor. If you’ll excuse the language, sir.”

            Herc nodded, allowing himself a small smile. It faded after a moment and he regarded Newt closely, visibly trying to frame his question the right way. Newt waited patiently and grinned when Herc sighed and simply shook his head.

            “How much do you want to know, sir?” he asked. “It’s a really…really long story. It could take awhile.”

            “As much as you feel comfortable telling me. Happily enough, we don’t seem to be on the pressing doomsday schedule we used to be,” Herc said. He sat down beside Newt again, settling as comfortably as he could on the uneven rock. Newt nodded in quiet agreement.

            “So where should I start?”

            “Wherever you think is best.”

            Newt watched the waves rolling far out to sea, mulling. There were so many different points he could start from he didn’t know where to even try to begin. The slow, awful slippage of his sanity in the weeks after Scunner’s death, arriving on Pitcairn and resigning himself to be a lab rat, being torn out of the Drift and into the hivemind…speaking to Meathead and giving it the directive he had followed for so many years. Watching the Precursors fall and their army rise against them.

It was best, he decided eventually, to start from the very beginning.

Newt closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. His voice was quiet again as he began to speak, and without interruption, judgment or disbelief Herc sat beside him listening for a very long time.


	43. Epilogue

_Three months later._

            “I don’t see why you need to have the introduction _and_ the first chapter to yourself.”

            Newt gave Gottlieb an irritated look as they stood in front of the paper-laden table. The endeavor to organize their chapter drafts had quickly degraded into piles of paper both handwritten and typed, loose photos and a growing pile of culled material tottering in one corner. Gottlieb endured the look patiently, gesturing at the first row of stacks.

            “You start out with fifty pages between the two. I was under the impression this was an evenly shared project.”

            “You told me you didn’t want to do anything with the introduction! I asked you _specifically_ , ‘Hermann, what do you want to do for the intro?’ What’d you say, huh? Look me right in the eye and tell me what you said.”

            “This isn’t about the introduction being solely yours,” Gottlieb said. “I’m just saying we should be starting off symmetrically. One piece from you, one from me, and then we repeat the pattern until the end of the book.”

            “But we don’t…mmngh. Okay, okay I get it. So intro from me, and then jump to your thing about predict-”

            “No, no, it’s the history of Jaeger AI first, then-”

            “What? No, you said the AI thing was gonna be towards the middle, you were gonna be doing that introduction to the predictive model first!”

            Gottlieb held his hands up in sarcastic defense as Newt glared at him.

            “Introducing the history chapter first establishes better narrative flow. Going straight into pure technical discussion’s jarring to the reader.”

            Newt stared at him with narrowed eyes, picking up the stack of papers marked “ _Jaeger AI”_ almost resentfully.

            “Whatever, Hemingway. Alright, so AI chapter goes first, moving this one…shit. Shit, what goes where?”

            Gottlieb took the AI draft from Newt as he stared at the rows in growing bafflement, rearranging the chapters into the new order. Newt rolled his eyes and stepped away back to his desk, needing to put a healthy distance between himself and the table for a moment.

            “And by the way, have you-”

            “No. Quit it, stop haranguing me.”

            “When you start remembering things without relying on post-its and writing on your hand, I’ll stop. Have we reached that point yet?”

            “Forgive me for not having a photographic memory, okay?” Newt said, waving Gottlieb off. “You’re not helping, you’re nagging.”

            “How is this nagging? All I was asking you-”

            “Was if I emailed the editor. And I’ve told you three times already, I’m gonna email her after the draft is done _._ Answer’s not gonna change on the fourth or fifth try _._ ”

            “You’ve been using that excuse for a week. How long could it possibly take you to finish a chapter? She’s going to drop the project at this rate.”

            “Okay, first off? University press book, not groundbreaking best-seller,” Newt retorted. “Nobody cares about the subject matter but us and like… _maybe_ twenty other people on the face of the Earth.”

            “Well we can’t expand on the lecturing tour idea you seemed so excited about for half a week,” Gottlieb said. “You got bored with that one awfully quickly. This is the second best thing, unless something shiny distracted you from _this_ idea as well?”

            “Who says I was distracted from anything? Everybody’s still sweeping up shit and rebuilding, no one’s going to want to sit down and listen to us yammer for four hours.”

            “They might not want to listen to _you,_ you mean. My own lectures were always very well-attended.”

            “Good for you,” Newt said. “I don’t think it counts when you lure them in with free sandwiches and then lock the doors, though.”

            “I always let them go eventually,” Gottlieb said mildly. Newt gave a bark of laughter and shook his head, looking at the collected notes and folders on his desk and sifting through them.

The book had been less of a serious project at first so much as establishing a decent record of work ; experiments, theories, proven hypotheses. It had taken on something of a life all its own within the first weeks, and now the half-finished draft already stood at almost three hundred pages of content and counting. Newt hadn’t realized how much information about the kaiju, Jaegers and Anteverse itself they had accrued until he really sat back and looked at the research material he and Gottlieb had pulled together.

“She’s not gonna drop the project anyway,” Newt said belatedly, setting a folder aside. “They’re all in love with your chapters for some reason.”

            “Probably because mine actually make sense.”

            “Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back. I’ve read them, they’re dry.”

            “As opposed to your rambling trains of thought pontificating about entrails and bodily fluids?”

            Newt buried his face in his hands with a disgusted sigh.

            “Did you actually just say _pontificating_ in normal conversation?”

            “You know what it means,” Gottlieb said. “Or are we still at the level of _apropos_ for advanced vocabulary?”

            “Hey, go to hell.”

            “Co-authoring a book with you is already hell.”

            “I hate you,” Newt said casually. Gottlieb snorted, picking up one of the notebooks and flipping through it.

            “I happen to know for a fact that you don’t,” he said.

            “I will smother you in your sleep.”

            Gottlieb sat on the edge of Newt’s desk and read, pausing on a page full of sketches. Meathead made several appearances but it was a very detailed study of a kaiju with sweeping tusks and permanently bared teeth that dominated most of the page.

            “Really is a threatening-looking thing, isn’t it?” he asked. Newt glanced at the page and smiled.

            “Looks are deceiving.”

            “How big was it, exactly? You never really specified,” Gottlieb said, putting on his reading glasses and studying the sketch.

            “Titanic,” Newt murmured, leaning back in his chair and biting at his fingernails in absent thought. “Imagine a mountain growing legs and walking around.”

            “Mm. I suppose it’s… _nice_ to have a visual accompaniment to the material. People might actually understand what you’re trying to describe,” Gottlieb said. Newt took the notebook back and closed it, shaking his head.

            “ _Ohh_ , no. This stuff’s not being included anywhere. Academia only. None of the…everything else.”

            “You’re really not going to record anything down outside of the technical?” Gottlieb asked, looking surprised. “Newton, _honestly_. All this work and you’re leaving out almost the entire story.”

            “Not writing a biography, just handling the scientific aspects,” Newt said stubbornly. “If I went beyond that and wrote the truth about them…c’mon. You _know_ what’d happen. Lot of people think I’m a BuenaKai freak show to begin with. I’m not gonna give them any more ammunition.”

            Gottlieb was silent, frowning as Newt looked away and tapped aimlessly at a few keys on his computer. He had no illusions that trying to explain the kaiju as anything other than monstrosities would fail spectacularly and had no interest in defaming himself more than necessary; considering all he had learned and seen, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

            “Alright,” Gottlieb said after a moment.  “I understand.”

            He put a hand on Newt’s shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. Newt glanced up at him and smiled again slightly.

            “You’re kind of freaking me out with all the unwavering support. Should I be getting used to this?”

            Gottlieb pushed his shoulder and Newt laughed as he tipped to one side, catching himself on the desk before he could fall off his chair.

            “That’s not an answer!”

            “It was a puerile question.  You got the answer you deserved.”

            “Such _aggression_ ,” Newt said, looking back to his computer. “You used to handle my dumb questions more civilly.”

            “Yes, well. Bad habits tend to spread like a virus when they come from you.”

            “I don’t push people! That’s _entirely_ you, you’ve got some deep-seated anger issues you gotta start looking into.”

            “One of us really is going to be smothered in our sleep soon and I’m getting the feeling it’s not going to be me,” Gottlieb said mildly, picking up another notebook and skimming through it. “By the way, did you ask Doctor Lightcap if-”

            “Yes,” Newt said, not looking up as he typed. “She said she’d email about it soon, quit haranguing about that too.”

            “Ah, good. Thank you. And it’s not _haranguing._ ”

            “It is when it’s literally something you can do in five minutes by yourself. You know you can just ask her for work stuff on your own, right? She’s not an intimidating person.”

            “Pardon me for maintaining some sense of deference and admiration for a founding member of the Jaeger program,” Gottlieb retorted. “Just because you’re on a flippant first-name basis with her doesn’t mean we all have the same privilege.”

            “It’s not privilege. Peers get to use each other’s first names and make consistent eye contact, okay? She likes you anyway.”

            Gottlieb’s eyes widened and he smiled rather incredulously.

            “She…I’m sorry, what?”

            “Yeah! You guys are two computer geek peas in a pod. Why d’you think she’s had you as a consultant for the new Pons programming stuff?”

            “Well…mostly because of…I thought it was just an advisory position. Something of little consequence, it’s not as though I’m doing any of the programming or hardware adjustments, I…”

            “You’re like the _only_ consultant on the project. She likes you.”

            Gottlieb looked quietly ecstatic for a moment, making Newt laugh and earning a sardonic look in response.

            “And just what is so funny about that? What have _you_ been doing of any value aside from dodging editor emails and collecting more tattoos?”

            “Augh, why did you _remind_ me of it,” Newt groaned, a hand suddenly reaching up to his throat. “I was distracted all day. I forgot it was there, now I remember the itching. I really fuckin’ hate you. I mean it.”

            “Your lack of self-awareness at any level never ceases to astound me,” Gottlieb said, batting Newt’s hand away from his throat. “Don’t scratch, you’ll damage it.”

            “It’s almost healed anyway,” Newt muttered, pulling at his shirt’s collar and trying to twist his head so he could see some part of the tattoo. The newest addition curled around his neck like an emerald-green serpent, the snarling face leering out from the hollow of his throat. Gottlieb studied it, slapping Newt’s hand away again as he tried to scratch.

            “How’s it looking?”

            “Like a decision you’ll regret when you’re sixty.”

            “Why do you insist on ruining everything good in my life?”

            “Because I’m coldhearted and bitter, why else,” Gottlieb said. “It looks fine. The line work is very well done.”

            “Good, good. Y’know, you should get one.”

            Gottlieb gave a bark of laughter, though it tapered off at the look Newt gave him.

            “Oh good Lord, you’re serious. No, Newton. I will _not_ be getting a tattoo.”

            “Why not? Don’t have to get a sleeve or anything, just…I dunno. A pi symbol on your wrist, maybe.”

            “That’s a rather specific suggestion. Been thinking on how you’d like me to permanently mar myself?”

            “You’ve got a suspicious mind, Hermann. Alright, alright. Just saying it’d look cool is all.”

            “I sat through the sympathy pains of you getting that thing around your neck, I have no desire to endure the process myself,” Gottlieb said. “Though…you handled the discomfort very well.”

            “My pain tolerance is better than it used to be,” Newt said dryly. “Somehow needles don’t bother me so much anymore.”

            “You _did_ wince when they were doing the lines on your stomach, don’t lie.”

            “Probably gonna be crying once they start coloring it in too. Worth it, though.”

            Newt grinned as he pulled up the hem of his shirt, looking at the dense lines that curved over his stomach and onto his hips. Even without color the tattoo looked impressive; Gottlieb scoffed in half-earnest disgust and dragged Newt’s shirt down again.

            “Of all the things to do to yourself, I swear…”

            “Could be worse. Could have gotten my tongue split or my teeth filed.”

            “Do _that_ and I’m turning you out on the street.”

            “Yeah, yeah. I’m shakin’.”

            Gottlieb slid off the desk’s edge and grabbed the notebook Newt had sketched in, taking it with him back to his corner of the lab to read. They had talked at length over the past months about what had happened to Newt during his time at Pitcairn; Gottlieb knew the story by heart, but he seemed to like to review it occasionally for curiosity’s sake.

            “You’ve put a lot of effort into writing down things you don’t intend on sharing,” he said after an hour of relative quiet. Newt looked over his shoulder; Gottlieb was still poring over the notebook, his reading glasses sitting low on his nose. “You’re really not going to try and record it in any kind of public capacity?”

            “Who’s gonna want to read it?” Newt asked. “Who’ll pick up a book about kaiju that shows them as something other than monsters? They did terrible things. They didn’t have a _choice_ in the matter, but they still did them. No one’s going to look at them and see past what they were forced to do.”

            “No,” Gottlieb agreed softly, looking down at the notebook again. “I suppose they wouldn’t.”

            “Why do you care?” Newt asked. “They didn’t exactly ingratiate themselves with you.”

            “Because it’s important to _you_. That’s reason enough, isn’t it?”

            Newt fell silent, unsure how to respond. Gottlieb flicked through the notebook to a random page; a rough sketch of a Precursor caught up in a fractal wall stared back at him, bound with cables that sewed its body into the complex pattern.

            “You’re sentimental today,” Newt said eventually. Gottlieb gave a spare laugh.

            “A bit. That’s been happening more and more often, actually. Can’t quite shake myself of the habit.”

            “Oh _, please_. You’re not even half as aloof as you think you are. You never have been.”

            Gottlieb started to retort and then caught himself, looking thoughtful.

            “That’s your fault as well, you know.”

            “Uh-huh. I’m the great miracle worker that got you out of your shell and taught you the meaning of Christmas, right? Come _on_ , Hermann. Give yourself a little credit for being a decent human being.”

            Gottlieb actually grinned and ducked his head down to hide it, pushing his reading glasses up again.

            “Shouldn’t you be procrastinating rather than bothering me?”

            “This _is_ procrastinating,” Newt said. He abandoned his desk and wandered through the lab, ending up in front of Gottlieb’s chalkboards. He picked up a piece of chalk and tapped it against the slate.

            “Change one number on there and I’ll skin you.”

            “There’s that aggression again,” Newt said. He started doodling in a clear corner of the board; the meaningless squiggles and spirals took on a familiar shape, and soon a drawing of Scunner sat howling angrily at the lines of numbers above it. Gottlieb gave the drawing a disapproving look.

            “Really?”

            “Mmhm. Hey… just out of morbid curiosity?” Newt pointed to the Scunner-doodle, tilting his head to one side. “Why _did_ you let me go outside when it showed up? Doesn’t seem like the best decision in hindsight.”

            Gottlieb sighed, taking off his reading glasses and rubbing at his eyes as though greatly put-upon.

            “It was getting ready to smash the doors open. I thought you being in closer proximity would deter it… I didn’t think you’d go _up_ to the damned thing.”

            “Yeah, well. I live to prove you wrong in every regard.”

            “Yes, yes. Well done, you sauntered up to a dying category four and made friends. Bully for you, Newton,” Gottlieb drawled, waving his hand at Newt dismissively.

            “Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear?”

            “If a hint’s all you can detect I need to try harder.”

            “You wound me, sir.”

            “I’ll do more than that if you keep bothering me.”

            “I don’t think Caitlin would approve of all this violence you keep threatening me with,” Newt said. Gottlieb scoffed again, balling up a piece of scrap paper and throwing it at him. It missed by a good three feet and Newt regarded him with deep disappointment.

            “See? Look at this, look what you’ve devolved into. Caitlin _and_ Mako’ll be ashamed of you when I tell ‘em.”

            “Doctor Lightcap might disapprove but I assure you Miss Mori will be entirely in my corner,” Gottlieb said. “I think it’s an even trade-off.”

            “Yeah, it is.” Newt stepped back from the board, looking at the small sketch of Meathead he had started. “When are she and Raleigh coming back from Oblivion Bay, anyway? I thought this trip was just for Coyote Tango. They’ve been gone for two weeks.”

            “Apparently Eden Assassin was unearthed at the same time,” Gottlieb said. “She’s been negotiating the return of both, and that’s requiring more room in the Jaeger bay, which means-”

            “Shipping out the finished ones we already got stuffed in there,” Newt finished. “More work for Tendo when he gets back getting _that_ all together. Must be kind of cool seeing them get dredged up at least.”

            “Why _did_ he go with them?” Gottlieb asked, frowning. “Not much need for a LOCCENT officer out in the field.”

            Newt suddenly started to crack up laughing, pressing his hand hard against his mouth and his face turning red. Gottlieb watched him, nonplussed.

            “I didn’t say anything funny,” he said. Newt gave a sharp snort and shook his head quickly.

            “Not you,” he said. “Shit, I forgot about that. Your buddy Liang sent him a _gift_.”

            “If this is the reaction it’s caused I don’t think I want to know what it was.”

            “It really _was_ a bit forward on her part,” Newt said, taking his glasses and rubbing at his eyes, struggling not to laugh again. “Oh my God. Poor Tendo. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

            “She did strike me as having a very assertive personality,” Gottlieb said. “I was under the impression she and Tendo had a…civil relationship.”

            “I think she did it just to freak him out. Expensive prank too, kaiju bone powder’s pretty high-end stuff.”

            “She _didn’t_ ,” Gottlieb said, mortified. Newt started laughing all over again, nodding.

            “Oh, she _did._ You should’ve seen the look on his face. She wrote a little poem and everything.”

            “Please don’t tell me it was lewd.”

            “No, nothing like that. Kind of open to interpretation as a joke or asking him out, really.”

            Gottlieb gave a snort.

            “So Tendo responded by fleeing to Oblivion Bay for two weeks?”

            “Wouldn’t you?” Newt countered, making Gottlieb laugh.

            “Not at all. I think I’d enjoy an evening out with her,” he said. “In a more _platonic_ sense, though.”

            “Where would you even go? Museum date?”

            “The California Science Center is lovely this time of year. It would be a very pleasant evening.”

            “Give me a break,” Newt said, sitting down on the edge of Gottlieb’s desk and giving him an imperious look. “You’d use it as an excuse to see the shuttle exhibit again.”

            “Merely a bonus to the visit,” Gottlieb said airily. Newt shook his head again, despairing.

            “We spent half a _day_ there last time,” he said. “How many times are you gonna go back before you get sick of looking at that thing?”

            “The _Endeavor_ is not a _thing_ , it’s an important part of aeronautic history. I’ll thank you to speak about it with a little more respect.”

            “Take it easy, space champion. Didn’t mean to offend you,” Newt said. They stared at each other icily for a moment before Gottlieb’s mouth quirked into an almost involuntary smile and the false argument fell apart. Gottlieb shooed Newt off the desk, pushing the notebook back into his hands.

            “Go be productive on something. I’m surprised Marshall Hansen hasn’t been hounding you over the backlog of reports you owe him. What’s going to happen when we finally transfer to Anchorage? That’s the main base of operations now, they have _standards.”_

            “Okay, I only owe him _two._ Don’t make it sound like I’m being more irresponsible than I actually am. Transfer keeps getting pushed back anyway…too much to do down here. I think D’onofrio likes lording over the place, he’s not gonna fork it over to Hansen anytime soon.”

            “You make him sound so boorish,” Gottlieb muttered. Newt snorted.

            “Just callin’ it like I see it.”

            “You’re abhorrent.” 

            “Sometimes,” Newt said with a shrug. He flicked through the notebook absently, studying the pages filled top to bottom with notes and sketches. “Not always. I can be tolerable when I want to be.”

            “You’re frequently tolerable. Balances out the abhorrence, just in different degrees.”

            “I…is there a compliment in there somewhere?”

            Gottlieb snorted and didn't reply. Newt wandered to the chalkboards again, looking up from the sketches he’d drawn to then the fields of notes and calculations spreading across the dusty black surfaces and studying them.

            “I was thinking we might end early for today,” Gottlieb said after a brief stretch. “We’ve been cooped up since this morning, nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

            “Giving me permission to wait on those reports a little longer?”

            “As you said yourself, nagging seems to be counteractive to any good working habits,” Gottlieb said dryly.

            “So better to tap out early than try and force it. Alright, you’ve convinced me,” Newt said. “Wanna get dinner?”

            “The food _has_ improved somewhat lately…might as well.”

            “That’s the spirit.”

Gottlieb locked his computer and pushed away from his desk. Newt lingered by the chalkboard a moment longer, picking up the eraser and moving to clean the sketched Scunner and Meathead off. He paused and then smiled faintly to himself, setting the eraser down again and leaving them untouched.

            “Are you coming or not?” Gottlieb called.

            Newt turned away from the chalkboard, hurrying to catch up with Gottlieb at the door, setting the notebook down on his desk as he passed. Gottlieb went out into the hall and Newt shut the lights off, pulling the door closed and locking it behind him.

            “Maybe we should just skip out on tomorrow too,” he said, looking over at Gottlieb. “Take a break before we try to kill each other over the book stuff.”

            “Absolutely not. We still have to think of a title for the damn thing, let alone the content.”

            “Hey, I had a _great_ title. You’re the one that shot it down, you said it was too overdramatic.”

            “It makes it sound like a Lovecraft story,” Gottlieb said dismissively as they headed down the hallway, leaving the lab behind. “ _From Out the Ocean Risen?_ Really, Newton. It’s ridiculous.”

            “Oh, so your grand contribution of _zero_ suggestions is that much better?” Newt retorted, though he didn’t sound at all irritated. “C’mon, man. Your name’s going first on the cover. Throw me a bone here.”

            “Alright, alright. We’ll use it if I can’t think of a better suggestion,” Gottlieb sighed. “Good enough?”

            “More than good enough. You’ll warm up to it, just watch.”       

            “Perhaps. But the next one, _I_ get to title. Deal?”

            Newt stuck his hand out and Gottlieb shook it firmly.

            “You got yourself a deal.”

The serious look they traded cracked after a moment, Newt grinning and Gottlieb discreetly looking away to hide his smile. They headed down the hallway and into the greater main corridor that branched all through the Shatterdome, walking side by side, the noise of conversation rising all around them as they slid easily through the dense, hurrying lines of people going from one end of the complex to the next.

“You’d think there was still a war on, the way this place buzzes at all hours,” Gottlieb said.

“Precautions,” Newt said, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Herc on the beach. “But the Mark Sixes aren’t going to be combat models, are they?”

“No. I don’t intend them to be, at least,” Gottlieb said. “After the book project’s finished I’ll start focusing on them more again…exploratory and construction models seem far more appealing to me these days then more tools of warfare.”

“Construction, huh?” Newt asked. “Just admit it. You wanna use one to knock down the Walls.”

“I _fully_ admit I want one for that purpose,” Gottlieb said, laughing. “A total erasure of past mistakes and moving on.”

“Moving on, moving forward,” Newt said. “Didn't think those days'd come again.”

“We’re doing rather well with it so far, don’t you think?”

Newt was quiet as he gave the question honest thought. Even in the peak years of the war when humanity seemed invincible everyone had known there was no going back to the way things had been before. During the war’s decline looking to the future had seemed masochistic, hope slowly but surely being abandoned. But now with the Breaches closed, the Precursors gone, the kaiju standing vigil in the furthest reaches of another universe and the threat of invasion removed once and for all…

Newt smiled as he looked over at Gottlieb, giving a slight nod.

“Yeah. We are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is.
> 
> A full year come and gone working on this project - I can hardly believe it's over, and just as equally can hardly believe the life the story took on. I've met so many wonderful people while writing this; my thanks to Blairtrabbit, Sparrows and Priellan for being beta readers and advice-givers when I was stuck (which was frequent) and giving suggestions to save my story from myself (which was often needed). 
> 
> My thanks too to every single person who has read this, be it a single chapter or the whole series from its very beginnings. The response I got to these stories has been consistently positive and overwhelming - you are all amazing, and I thank you so, so much for reading.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Strange, Far Places [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6710902) by [tinypinkmouse_podfic (tinypinkmouse)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypinkmouse/pseuds/tinypinkmouse_podfic)




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